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Albert R. Mann Libkary 

Cornell University 




The gift of 



Richard Michelsen 



Ill 

3 1 



CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 




4 898 



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Cornell University 
Library 



The original of this book is in 
the Cornell University Library. 

There are no known copyright restrictions in 
the United States on the use of the text. 



http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924101414898 




NAAMAN'S LITTLE MAID 

FROM A DRAWING BY W. HATHERRL 



fr, 





C'T-pyrlght, i9'3, by 
THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY Inc. 




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EAR B O \' S AND GIRLS: 

When you read this book, try to 

think of It as a Friend, — your true 

Friend, for every thought m it is made 

phiin in print for you. Every white 

page bound into its covers is yours. 

^ es, this book is made just for you. 

Take It, keep it, treasure it, for it is a Friend whose 

heart is full of Love, Good Wishes and Sure Help. 

In making "\'our Book, we felt certain that you were 
not the kind of Children that wanted to be amused 
or entertained all the time. You will be entertained 
by this Book-Friend, but you will also be helped and 
guided to higher Manhood and truer Womanhood by 
Its straight Truths — Godly and Goodly^ Truths. 

Boys, we want your Boyhood to be a firm founda- 
tion for noble Manhood. You are "worth-while" Boys and 
you want to be brave, honest and successful MEN. 

Girls, you are true-hearted, and you hope some day 
to be kind, bright, gentle and wise WOMEN. You 
wish to be full of the sort of beauty that makes you 
loved and admired, no matter what your place in life 
may be. 

Boys and Girls, you wish all this, don't you.'' Well, 
this Book of vours will show you how to be what you 
wish to be. We call Your Book " BIBLE STORIES 
AND CHARACTER-BUILDING." It tells you 
the very best stories from the very best Book the world 
knows, the BIBLE. The golden pages of this Good 






Book have made many a splendid HERO and HERO- 
INE. The days of True Heroism are not over. You 
all have the same kind of hearts that God gave to His 
Boys and Girls in the Olden Days you read of. We be- 
lieve that, if need be, you may be just as true Heroes 
and Heroines as any of those of the Bible or of History. 

As you read these words, you may say, "Why, this 
is a Religious Book ! " So it is, Children, but it is not a 
" goody-goody " Book. As I have said, it is just straight 
TRUTH, which Children like you want to know. It 
shows you the manliness and nobility of GOODNESS. 
It points out the real bigness and fineness of Religion. 
Best of all, it shows you what a true CHRISTIAN is. 
There is a world of greatness in the word "Christian," 
and I cannot begin to tell of it all, but I will say two 
things about a Christian. 

FIRST. No Boy can be a Christian who is not a 
fighter, but he must " fight a good fight." He must fight 
for the right which his conscience shows him. Against 
all odds he must battle without tiring against his hidden 
enemy, EVIL, and his brutal enemy, WRONG. Yes, 
Boys, you knozv this is true bravery, and it takes a fighter 
to win out with honor. 

SECOND. A Christian Boy or Girl must know 
how to PRAY. In all our hearts, no matter if we are 
old or young, the Voice of God is in us, bidding us to 
pray. Prayers are only WISHES, after all — just wishes 
for our own GOOD. Prayers are only longings or de- 
sires for certain things that make us happier and better. 
We all WISH, and we all should try to make our wishes 
into Prayers, and so help them to come true. 

So, Children, this book of "BIBLE STORIES 



1 



AND CHARACTER-BUILDING" gives you page 
atrer page of Wish-prayers. You will turn to them to 
help you put your Wishes into simple words. You will 
get great Good from these pages. 

As tor " amusement," which every Child wants and 
has a right to, you will find treasure pages full of this. 
There are Christmas Days ; there is Santa Claus, and all 
the jov of these good times. There are Many Happy 
New Years awaiting you, full of promise and the best of 
Fortune. Yes, you will find " entertainment " in this 
Book of yours. 

Finally, Children, I want to say that, in giving this book 
to r<)//,wegiveo«rj^/'i'Cj the truest kind of happiness. We are 
reaching out our older and more experienced hands to you 
like good Comrades. You will grasp our guiding hands 
and grow stronger and wiser. As for us, we will grow 
younger and better, too, for your presence. So, Children, 
God speed your Journey into Good Lite ! Good bye ! 

Always your true Friend, 

JOHN MARTIN. 





Ci-'pyriyht by L'iiderwuud i: L na 



READING THE BIBLE STORIES. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 



Prayers that every Child should Learn 5 

Prayers in A'erse for Little Children 6 

Little Sermons for Little Folk . . ' 8-17 

Rcz\ lames M. Farrar. D.D.. and Rcz'. John Talbot Smith. LL.D. 
The A\\")nderful Ring — Roses of Charity — Playing to Music — The Magic Dipper — 
The Land of Forget — A Stone in the Road — The Careful Boy — Wrinkles as Wit- 
nesses — The Little Brown Bed — What is Good Success? 

Hymns that Every Child should Know 19--? 

Edited hv Daniel Edwin ll'heelcr 
Little Children, Come to Jesus — There's a Fold Both Safe and Happy — The Little 
Lord Jesus — When the Little Children Sleep — Jesus, Holy, Undefiled — Thou that 
Once on Mother's Knee — One Little Star — There is a Happy Land — I Love to Tell 
the Story — All Things Beautiful and Fair — I Am God's Little Child — Jesus Loves 
Me! This I Know — Jesus Bids Us Shine — If You Cannot on the Ocean — Pass it 
On — Wdiat a Friend ^^'e have in Jesus — Hark, Hark, IMy Soul — Sun of My Soul — 
I Look to Thee in every Need — Bringing in the Sheaves — How .Sweet the Name of 
Tesus Sounds — Am I a Soldier of the Cross — Onward, Christian Soldiers — There 
were Ninety and Nine — What I Li\'e For — Work, for the Night is Coming— Jeru- 
salem, the Golden — Rock of Ages — Jesus, Lover of My Soul — Softly Now the Light 
of Day — Abide with Me — Nearer, My God, to Thee 

Prayers for Boys and Girls -^9-45 

JoJin Martin (Morgan Shepard) 

Animals of the Bible, for Little; Folk 46-53 

The Homeland of Jesus 54-63 

Life and Scenes in Palestine To-da}- — In a Peasant Home of the Holy Land — The 
Syrian Shepherd 

TtiE Yule-tide Lights 65-66 

Laura Alton- Payne 

Christmas in Various Countries 67-80 

Beatrix Juncjman. Edith A. Brozvne. L. Edna JJ'alter. Clifford Howard, and others 
St. Nicholas in Holland — Christmas in Germany — Christmas Fve in Russia — The 
Danish Christmas— How Spain Keeps Christmas— How Uncle Sam Observes 
Christmas 



CONTENTS 



Yule-tide Tales for Little Folk 
A Christmas Fair\'-tale 
Christmas without the Christmas Tree 
The Dear Old Tree 
E';ther's Christmas 
Christmas Ashes 
For Christmas Dav 
The Xew Year's (riift 
\'ida's Gray J\Iuit 
The Christmas Goose 
Santa's Surprise Party 
What Would You Sav? 



The Story of Our Bible . 

Edited h\ Rcz 



John Talbot Smith 



85 



PAGE 

-112 



E. A. Watson Hyde 

May Snyder 

Luella Wilson Smith 

Gwendolen Overton 

Edith jl/. Thomas 

Nancy Byrd Turner 

Jessie Wright Whitcomb 

Kendrick Ferris 

Jessie JVright Whitcomb 

Gladys Hyatt Sinclair 

Edith Sanford Tillotson 



II3-II6 



LL.D. 



Old TestaxMent Stories FOR Children - Ii7~i50 

Edited by Rev. George Edward R-eed. D.D. 
The Creation — Adam and Eve in Eden — Punishment of the First Sin — The Crime of 
Cain — The Great Flood — The Ark and its Voyage — What the Dove Found — The 
Meaning of the Rainbow — The CTnfinished Tower — Abraham and Lot — The 
Wicked Cities — The Sons of Abraham — Hagar and Lhmael — The Trial of Abra- 
ham's Faith — The Choosing of Rebekah — Esau and Jacob— Jacob's Tricky Deceit- 
Jacob's Ladder — Jacob's Twice-earned ^^'ife — "Israel, a Prince of God" — Joseph 
and his Brothers — Joseph in Egypt — What Joseph Did for his Father and Brothers 

— The Children of Israel in Bondage — ]\Ioses and Pharaoh — The Plagues of Egypt 

— The Children of Israel Set Free — In the Wilderness — The Ten Commandments — 
The Golden Calf — The Promised Land — The Plague of Serpents — How Balaam 
was Rebuked — The Death of Moses — Triumph of the Israelites — Gideon's Victory 

— The Strange Story of Samson — Ruth and Naomi — The Call of Samuel — How the 
Cows Drew the Ark of the Covenant — Samuel as Judge — How Saul became King — 
David, the Shepherd King — Saul and David — How David Fought the Giant — The 
Friendship of David and Jonathan — Saul's Cruelty to David — David's Generosity — 
David's Sin and Nathan's Reproof — The Sorrowful Story of David and Absalom — 
Solomon, the Wise l\Ian — The Queen of Sheba's Visit to Solomon — The Wonderful 
Things that Elijah Did — How Ahab Took Naboth's \'ineyard — Elisha, the Man of 
God — How Elisha Helped and Healed People — The Story of Queen Esther — Haman 
and Mordecai — Daniel Interprets the King's Dream — Daniel's Friends Cast into the 
Fiery Furnace — Belshazzar's Feast — Daniel in the Lions' Den — The Adventures of 
Jonah 

Bible Curiosities AXD ?ilEMORY-TESTS .... 151-157 

Baby's Bible Pictures — Scripture Alphabet Game — Bible Characters — Capping Quo- 
tations—The "First Things" of the Bible — Old Testament Queries — New Testa- 
ment Queries — Curious Facts about the Bible 

A Child's Calendar OF Golden Thoughts ... 158-164 

A Golden Week Henry Drnmmond and J. R. Miller 

A Golden Month Henry Dritmmond 

A Thought for Every Day in the Month 

Legends OF Jesus 165-170 

Sehna Lagerlof and others 
The Wise Men from the East— The Robbers AVho Fled— The Thieves in the Desert 
— The Boy Judas Iscariot— The Wonderful Boy— In Nazareth— Robin Redbreast 



CONTENTS 

Stories from the Life of Jesus for Littlic Children 

Amy Slccdiiuni 



172-203 



The Message that Came to Mary — How the Angel Brought Good News — The Wise 
Men and the Star — The Bahy's Name — King Herod's Wicked Plan — The Home at 
Nazareth — Jesus in the Temple — The Baptism of Jesus — How Jesus was Tempted 
— The Water Turned into \\'inc — The Clioosing of the Twelve Friends — The Proud 
Rich Man and the Poor Sorrowful Woman — The Storm on the Lake — The Ruler's 
Little Daughter — How Jesus Fed the Hungry People — The Healing of the Fen 
Lepers — The Kind Stranger — The Unmerciful Servant — The Good Shepherd — The 
Wasteful Son — The Pharisee and the Puhlican — How Jesus I^oved Little Children — 
The Little Home at Bethany — The Blind Man Who" Cried to Jesus — The Little 
Man \Mio Tried to See Jesus — How Jesus Rode into Jerusalem — The Enemies of 
Jesus — The \\'ise and the Foolish Virgins — The Story of the Talents — The Last 
Supper — Jesus in the Garden — How Peter Pretended that he did not Know his 
Master — The Cross of Jesus — How Jesus Rose Again — How Jesus Showed Himself 
to his Friends — How the King Went back to Heaven 



Prayers for Children 



204-211 



Mother's Good-Xigiit Talks (a brief bedtime talk for each day of the month) 

Elizabeth Liiscombc 



Christmas Stories for Older Children 

A Stop-over Christmas . 
Travelers from the East 
The Story of the Holly Sprig 
Judy's Idea .... 

December 

The Bald Brow Christmas Trc 

The Lesson Learned 

The Skipper's Lad . 

Holly, Ivy, Bay 

Kitty's Christmas Stocking . 

The Doll that Santa Claus Brought 

The Snow-bound Santa Claus 

A Christmas Cure .... 

Sir Cleges and his Gift . 



228-277 



Claire H. Gitnicy 
Etiima A. Lcntc 
Artlnir Upson 
Chaiiottc Sedgwick 
Han-id F. Blodgctt 
Cliarlcs Poole Cleaves 
. Kathryn Jarboc 
Arthur Upson 
Edith M . Thomas 
Kate l'. Thompson 
Katharine Carrington 
I::ola L. Forrester 
Einilie Foidsson 
Arthur Guitcrman 



Christian Heroes and Teachers 278-312 

Edited by Mrs. B. Ellen Burke and John H. Clifford 

Stories of the Saints — Some Famous Monks — Great Christian Missionaries — Great 
Hymn-writers — John Wesley, an Evangelist in Two Worlds 



Sermons and Seed-thoughts for Boys and Girls 313-337 

Rev. Washington Gladden. D.D., JVilliam Jennings Bryan. James L. McCreery, 
Frances L. Mace, and others 

for Girls — The Daughter of Tairus — Faithfulness in Little Things — \\'ords of Help 
Christmas Bells — A Sermon for Hallowe'en — Lincoln's Birthday — The Fine -A.rt of 
Kindness^The Nobility of Work — If I were a Boy — If I were a Girl — The Life 
Beyond 



CONTENTS 

PAGB 

Bible Stories for Older Children 338-37^ 

The late Dean Stanley, Harold Begbie, and others 

of Stephen — The Sayings of Jesus — Stories from the Gospels — The Twelve Apos- 
tles — John, the Beloved Disciple — Paul, the Apostle of Christ 
The Birth of Christianity — Peter and John at the Gate Beautiful — The Martyrdom 

Little Talks ON Manners AND MoR^vLs 377-416 

Washington's "Rules of Behavior" 

Who Was the Gentleman ? 

What is a Gentleman? 

Sensibility Hannah More 

Don't You See? 

Is It You? 

Love of Country and of Home Ja)ncs Montgomery 

Lad and his Neighbor 

Forgive and Forget Martin Farquhar Tuppcr 

Supposing 

Where is God? 

. Honor 

The Truant S. A. Hudson 

Mother's Children 

Whole Duty of Children Robert Louis Stevenson 

Lokman 

The Lark's Song 

Look Aloft Jonatlian. Lazvrenee 

I'll Try 

Kindness 

A Good Thanksgiving Marian Douglas 

Prayer and Potatoes 

The Cruel Boy 

Kindness to Animals 

Good Company 

The World's Music Gabriel Setoun 

A Child's Prayer Matilda B. Edwards 

Rules for Conversation Sir Matthew Hale 

Be Pure in Speech 

My Mother's Bible George P. Morris 

The Boy the World Wants 

The Boys that are Wanted 

The Girl the World is Waiting for 

We Were Boys Together George P. Morris 

Honestv 

Truth J.M. Morse 

Rebecca's Afterthought 

The Two Battle-Cries 

Dean Stanley's Advice to Boys and Girls . 

Talks on Courtesy 

The Value of Courtesy William J . Shearer 

Fun C. C. Everett 

How Alcohol Injures Life 

How We may Hurt Ourselves with Tobacco 




From the painting by Bi 



'SUFFER LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME.' 

" I rhink when I read that sweet story of old, 
When Jesus was here among men. 
How he called little children as lambs to his fold, 
1 should like to have been with him then." 




THE CHILIJ S FlillCND. 



THE TRIBUTE -MONEY (TITIAN). 




THE GREAT PHYSICIAN (GABRIEL MAX). 



THESE PICTURES SHOW HOW THREE DIFFERENT PAINTERS THOUGHT CHRIST LOOKED. TWO OF 
THEM ARE OF FAMILIAR SCENES IN HIS LIFE — HIS REPLY TO THE PEOPLE WHO ASKED HIM ABOUT 
THE RO.MAN PENNY (Luke XX. 22-25); AND THE RAISING OF THE RULER'S LITTLE DAUGHTER. 




Painted by Guido Reni, 



Faiiitud Uy 1-. Goud.i. 



MARY. THE MOTHER OF CHRIST. 

3 




THE HCILY FAMILY (MURIl.LO). 



THI': M.STINE MADONNA (RAPHAEL). 



MARY. THE MOTHER OF CHRIST. 

VERY MANY GREAT PAINTERS. BOTH IN THE MIDDLE AGE.S AND TO-DAY, HAVE TRIED TO MAKE 
FOR US BEAUTIFUL PICTURES OF THE MOTHER OF OUK LORD. 



PRAYERS THAT EVERY CHILD 
SHOULD LEARN 



FOR A PURE HEART 

Jesus, take this heart of mine, 
Make it pure, and only thine. 
I thy httle child would be. 
Help me. Lord, to live for thee. 



FOR THREE THINGS 

Dear Lord, for these three things I pray: 

To know thee more clearly, 

To lo-\'e thee more dearly, 

To follow thee more nearly, 
Every day. 



FOR EVERY DAY 

Father, we thank thee for the night, 
And for the pleasant morning light; 
For rest and food and loving care. 
And all that makes the day so fair. 

Help us to do the things we should, 
To be to others kind and good ; 
In all we do in work or play. 
To grow more loving every day. 

GIVIXG THANKS FOR THE SAVIOUR 

For Jesus Christ, the children's friend. 
We thank thee, heavenly Father : 

For Jesus Christ, who keeps us to the end 
We thank thee, heavenly Father. 



THANKS FOR GOD'S GOODNESS 

Dear Lord, we thank thee for thy care. 

And all thy mercy sends ; 
For food we eat, the clothes we wear, 

Our health and home and friends. 



JESUS, SAVIOUR, PILOT ME 

Jesus, Saviour, pilot me, 
Over life's tempestuous sea; 
Unknown waves before me roll, 
Fliding rock and treacherous shoal ; 
Chart and compass come from thee : 
Jesus, Saviour, pilot me. 



As a mother stills her child. 
Thou canst hu.sh the ocean wild ; 
Boisterous wa\'es obey th)- will 
When thou say'st to them "Be still 
Wondrous Sovereign of the sea, 
Jesus, Saviour, pilot me. 

When at last I near the shore, 
And the fearful breakers roar 
'Twixt me and the peaceful rest. 
Then, while leaning on thy breast, 
May I hear thee say to me, 
"Fear not, I will pilot thee !" 

LEAD ME ON 

Traveling to the better land. 
O'er the desert's scorching sand. 
Father ! let me grasp thy hand ; 
Lead me on, lead me on ! 

When at Marah, parched with heat, 
I the sparkling fountain greet. 
Make the bitter water sweet ; 
Lead me on ! 

When the wilderness is drear. 
Show me Elim's palm-grove near. 
And her wells, as crystal clear; 
Lead me on ! 

Through the water, through the fire, 
Never let me fall or tire. 
Every step brings Canaan nigher : 
Lead me on ! 

Bid me stand on Nebo's height, 
Gaze upon the land of light. 
Then, transported with the sight. 
Lead me on ! 

When I stand on Jordan's brink, 
Never let me fear or shrink ; 
Hold me, Father, lest I sink : 
Lead me on ! 

When the victory is won, 
And eternal life begun. 
Up to glory lead me on ! 

Lead me on. lead me on ! 



PRAYERS IN VERSE FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



THE LORD'S PRAYER 

Our Father in heaven, 
We hallow thy name ! 

May thy kingdom holy 
On earth be the same. 

O, give to us daily 

Our portion of bread; 

It is from thv bounty 
That all must be fed. 

Forgive our transgressions, 
And teach us to know 

That humble compassion 
That pardons each foe. 

Keep us from temptation. 
From weakness and sin, 

And thine be the glory 
Forever — Amen. 



MORNING PRAYER 

Now the shades of night are gone; 
Now the morning light is come : 
Lord, may I be thine to-day ; 
Drive the shades of sin awav. 



Dear Lord, we pray thee, keep thy little children 
From doing wrong throughout this happy day. 

Hear our morning promises. Father, help us keep 
them, 
That we may please thee in all we do or say. 

EVENING PRAYER 

" Glory to thee, my God, this night, 

For all the blessings of the light; 
Keep me, O keep me. King of kings, 
Under thine own almighty wings. 

Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son, 
The ills that I this day have done; 
That with the world, myself, and thee, 
I, ere I sleep, at peace may be. 

ANOTHER 

Lord, teach a little child to pray. 
And fill my heart with love, 

And make me fitter, every day, _ 
To go to heaven above. 

O, hear my little simple prayer, 
My faults and sins forgive. 

That I may join the angels there, 
And with my Saviour live. 



Fill my soul with heavenly light. 
Banish doubt, and clear my sight; 
In thy service. Lord, to-day, 
May I labor, watch, and pray. 



ANOTHER 

I THANK thee, Lord, for quiet rest. 

And for thy care of me ; 
Oh, let me through this day be blest. 

And kept from harm by thee. 
Oh, let me thank thee, kind thou art 

To children such as I, 
Give me a gentle, loving heart ; 

Be thou my friend on high. 



ANOTHER 

Father in heaven, help thy little children 
To love and serve thee throughout this day. 

Help us to be truthful, help us to be kindly. 
That we may please thee in all we do or say. 



AT BEDTIME 

Now I lay me down to sleep, 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep; 
If I should die before I wake, 
I pray the Lord my soul to take. 

THE CHILD'S PRAYER 

Lord, teach a little child to pray. 
And then accept my prayer ; 

For thou canst hear the words I say,' 
For thou art everywhere. 

A little sparrow cannot fall 

Unnoticed, Lord, by thee ; 
And though I am so yoimg and small. 

Thou dost take care of me. 

Teach me to do the thing that 's right. 

And when I sin, forgive ; 
And make it still my chief delight 

To serve thee while I live. 




A SUMMER SUNDAY HOUR OI" LONG AOO. 



\^^^' 



ft] Q-S^?^3^S^3^2^ 



vi LITTLE SERMONS FOR LITTLE FOLK 



3^3^2:5^ ^ 



THE WONDERFUL RING 



•Tic 



comicterl h\- coiiscicncc." — John \iii. 



A SILVER egg was once, as the story goes, pre- 
sented to a prince. On opening the shell by a 
spring, he found within a yolk of gold. Another 
spring caused the yolk to open and disclose a 
beautiful bird. R)- pressing the wings of the 
bird, the breast opened and displayed a wonderful 
ring. The ring fitted the prince's finger excel- 
lentlv while he walked in the right path, but 
pinched his flesh sharply whenever he was in 
danger of doing wrong. This wonderful ring 
illustrates what your conscience, does for you. 

The storv of the ring tells vou, however, a part 
only of the meaning of conscience. Conscience 
tells you to do what "\'ou know to be right and not 
to do what vou know to be wrong. It does not 
and can not tell vou what is right and what is 
wrong. The Bible tells us about right and wrong. 
You must read vour Bible, learn what it says is 
right and what it says is wrong. When you have 
the knowledge in 3'our heart then conscience will 
whisper: "Do what vou belie\'e is right, do not 
do what you believe is wrong." If you obey con- 
science you are happy, but if you disobey con- 
science you are unhappv. Two facts I want you 
boys and girls to clearly fix in vour minds, are 
these: First — learn from the Bible what God says 
is right and what he sa\'S is wrong. .Second — 
listen to the still small voice of conscience telling 
you to obey God. 

An incident in the childhood of Theodore 
Parker will help }'ou to understand what I am so 
anxious for you to remember. Here is the story : 

One fine day in the spring, when Theodore was 
•a little boy, his father took him to a field, where 
he was working, and later sent him home again. 
'On the way back the bo)' had to pass a "pond- 
Iiole," wdierein he saw, in full bloom, a beautiful 
rhodora. In trying to get at the flower he saw a 
pretty little spotted tortoise, sunning itself in the 
shallow water. 



He lifted the stick he held in his hand and was 
about to strike the harmless creature, but all at 
once something checked the uplifted arm, and a 
voice within said, clear and strong, "It is wrong.'' 

He held the uplifted stick in wonder at the new 
emotion, and the tortoise vanished from his sight. 

Hastening home, he related the case to his 
mother, and asked her what it was that told him 
it was wrong to strike the tortoise. 

Wiping the tear from her eye with her apron, 
and taking the boy in her arms, the mother said 
to him : 

"Some men call it conscience, but I prefer to 
call it the voice of God in the soul of man. If 
you will listen and obey it, then it will speak 
clearer and clearer, and always guide you right: 
but if you turn a deaf ear or disobey, then it 
will fade away little by little and leave you all in 
the, dark without a guide. Your life, niy son, 
depends on heeding this little voice." 

From "Harper's Magazine" I take a story that 
«ill show you the power and blessing of a good 
conscience : 

"The widow of an English army officer was 
visiting me with her son, a charming little fellow 
about five years old. The mother told me with 
pride how honorable he was, how high-minded, 
and that she had never for an instant seen in hiin 
indications of any traits that were low or base. 

"The child was put to bed at six. We dined at 
seven. I was sitting in the drawing-room one 
evening before dinner. The room was dark, the 
doors open, and my seat conmianded a view of 
both the s-tairway and the dining-room. The table 
was set, and in the center was a dish of tempting 
peaches. 

"Presently there came to my ears the patter of 
little bare feet, and a childish figure, clad in a 
nightgown, stole down the stairs, through the 
hall, into the dining-room, up to the table. Smal' 



LITTLE SKRMONS FOR iJTTLK FOLK 9 

fingers seized the topmost peach from the dish. (liroiit;ii the liali, into tlic dininf;--rooni, np lo the 

and the little fellow turned and trotted a\\M\' up- lahle. Small lini^ers replaeeil the sdiUn peach 

stairs aijaiii. just where il had heen, and a sluhlnini liMlc voice 

"As I sat in the dark, in an a^onv of apprehen- mullered, d )(ine a,L;ain, old Satan!' 

sion. there eame attain the p.itter, patter of little lie was "coiuicled h\- conscience" and ohcNcd 

feet, and a white-clad fii^ure stole down the stairs, the voice of Gtid. 



ROSES OF CHARITY 



"I am the rose of Sharon.' 

The rose is a great linguist. It can speak in 
every language in the world. It makes no differ- 
ence where the rose is when it speaks — the people 
understand what it says and love it. How does it 
speak? It speaks by its beauty and its fragrance. 
If you should take a bunch of roses and go down 
to the pier \vhere the immigrants come into the 
city of New York from Ellis Island, and if yon 
should give the first little immigrant girl that you 
met one of your roses, you wanuld see her eyes 
light up and a smile come to her face. She would 
know what the rose said, and would realize that 
its message was one of love and good will from 
you. Christ like a rose comes wdth a message of 
love and good wall to all. 

Solomon represented Christ as saying: "I am 
the rose of Sharon." When Christ was upon- earth 
he said : "I am the vine. Ye are the branches." 

If, then, we are one with Christ as a branch is 
one with the vine, there will be roses not only on 
our cheeks, but they will drop from our hands in 
our every act of love and kindness. Christ is the 
bread of life, and we often need him as our 
bread; but there is a hunger for beauty and fra- 
grance that bread does not satisfy. As the rose 
of Sharon, he meets this need of your life and 
mine. Luther Burbank, who lives in California, 
hunts until he finds a strong vine, upon which he 
grafts a branch of some favorite rose. It has 
been said that he has produced a flower that will 
never fade. He found a hardy annual, upon 
which he .grafted a branch which bears fragrant 
blossoms that never lose their color. If you are 
one wdth Christ, and he is living in you, then 
vour acts of kindness will be like fadeless roses. 



' — Sonil of Soloinim ii. I 

The rose is a flower that blooms in every part 
of the world. China has the climliing wdiite rose ; 
Persia boasts of a hundred-leaved variety. From 
Egypt's sands the rose grows and blooms, and 
Iceland produces a vivid crimson rose, which the 
natives find as they scrape away the snow to 
gather moss for their reindeer. Christ, the ^■ine, 
will live in any part of tl;e world, and upon this 
vine we can graft the rose of China, E.gypt, Ice- 
land, and of every land, a variety of roses wdtli a 
unity in the vine — the snow-rose of Iceland and 
the American Beauty rose, roses of all varieties, 
but all one in the unity of the vine. 

A motherless child in a poor home was very 
sick. All wdnter she lav in the sick-room, and 
visitors seldom came to see her. The wind made 
a lonel}' sound in the limbs of the leafless trees. 
The child lon.gcd for a bird, a:id the first to come 
was an owl. After a long- wr.it June came anrl 
opened the window, covered the trees with leaves 
and brought singing birds. One morning when 
the child awoke there was a visitor in the room — 
a green. vine with a red rose. The vine, fastened 
to the wall, had, from the weight of the dew, 
fallen through the open window on to the invalid's 
pillow. The child pressed the cool red rose 
against her pale hot cheek, and smiled for the 
first time in weeks. 

If }-ou are a branch of the Christ vine, yoy. will 
find the open window, and, as the rose of s\-m- 
pathy, love and helpfulness, ^ou will shed forth 
beauty and fragrance wherever they are most 
needed. The dew of heaven wall fall upon you, 
and the fragrance and beauty of your life will 
help to make earth like heaven. 



PLAYING TO MUSIC 

' W'c ha\e piped unto >'0U, and ye ha\e not danced." — Matt. xi. i; 



The boy or girl who wdll not dance is a dunce. 
I mean the kind of dance that Christ watched and 
enjoyed, when the children were playing on the 
Streets of Jerusalem. Christ speaks of two street- 



g.ames — one was funeral, and the other was wed- 
ding. Children then, like children now, imitated 
the older people. At a real funeral the mourners 
played on reed-pipes, something like our flute. 



10 



LITTLE SERMONS FOR LITTLE FOLK 



When the sad and doleful music was heard, the 
people would lament. Lament means to cry and 
moan. The children would imitate the funeral 
— they plaved funeral. Sometimes when a trifle 
contrary the}- refused to play. "A\'e have moaned 
unto you," the other children said, "and ye have 
not lamented." 

Their other game gave no excuse for refusing 
to play. It was the game of wedding. The same 
pipe or flute was used, and thev played the same 
tune, hut they played it a little faster. There were 
some cross-grained children who would not play 
wedding. I think that they were the ones who 
were not asked to play bride and groom. Then 
those who were plaj-ing would say, "We have 
piped unto you, and ye have not danced." Christ 
watched these children wdien they played, as truly 
as he watched them when they prayed. What a 
beautiful picture I Children on the street dancing 
to music and shouting to one another in great 
glee, Christ watching them and rejoicing with 
them. When I was a boy the minister preached 
about Christ listening when I prayed. How I 
wish he had told me that Christ watched me when 
I played. How much better I would have played. 

The children Christ was watching were not 
dancing in the way we mean by dancing. They 
were playing to music. In the army they have 
music to help the soldiers march. Why not have 
music to help the children play? It is better to 
have music while you exercise than it is to have 
music while you eat. You can eat fast enough 
and long enough without music. I wish we could 
have a band of music on every playground. When 
music gets into your ears it runs down into your 
feet and makes you dance. You ought to dance. 
Dancing in the open air is iine e.xercise. God put 
dance into your feet to make you grow. I am 
always glad when I hear the street-band and see 
the children dancing. I once heard of some one 
who counted the steps taken by dancers. As 
many as 56,000 steps are often taken by the chil- 
dren. That is three miles longer than the 
Marathon race. The children's street-dance is 
the easiest and best w-ay of exercise. 

There are tw-o things I want you to remember. 
The first is that Christ watches you not only when 
vou pra)-, but he watches you when you play. 
Christ was interested in me when, as a boy, I 
danced along the streets of the little village of 
Candor. He is interested in vou as vou dance 



along the streets of your village or city. Is n't it 
splendid to know that Christ enjoys your play? 
The second thing to remember is that you have 
no more right to be cranky and cross-grained 
when you play than you have to be cranky and 
cross-grained when you pray. God watches 
while vou play and listens while you pray. 

The Bible says there is "a time to weep and a 
time to laugh : a time to mourn and a time to 
dance." A time to dance — that means that we 
are not to dance all the time. When the dancing- 
time is up, you should stop and be ready to do 
something else. You ought to work and pray as 
heartily and cheerfully as you dance and play. 
The dance habit, wanting to dance all the time, is 
a very bad habit. Dance and play in order to 
grow strong and happy. Get strong and happy in 
order that )'ou may do great things for God and 
man. There are battles to be fought in life that 
can not be won b}' those who know only how to 
dance. 

May I tell you a story ? The Sybarites were 
great warriors. At one time they sent out 300,000 
men to fight their enemies. They had fine horses, 
and being very proud of them, taught them to 
dance. The horses would rise on their hind feet 
and then on their fore feet, as they kept time to 
the music. For more than a vear the soldiers had 
nothing to do, so they exercised their horses by 
having them dance. The horses got into the 
dancing habit. Then came a great war, and the 
soldiers rode out to the battlefield expecting to 
gain a victory. 

The enemy were on foot and the horsemen ex- 
pected to ride right over them, and to defeat them 
easily. The enemy knew the horses had the danc- 
ing habit. They knew the horses' dance-music. So 
when the horsemen came rushing at them, the 
enemy began to play dance-music. The horses 
forgot it was war and began to dance. What a 
sight ! Warriors eager for battle, sitting on 
dancing horses. The horses danced, rising on 
their hind feet and then on their fore feet, turn- 
ing to right, then turning to left, forward and 
backward and balanced all. While the horses 
danced, the enemy fought, and the brave horse- 
men were easily conquered. The battle was lost 
because the war-horses had the dance habit. Let 
us make a resolution to-day to play and pray, to 
work and never shirk. Christ came to set our life 
to music. 



LITTLE SERMONS FOR LITTLE FOLK 



11 



THE MAGIC DIPPER 

"I was thirsty, and >-e gave me drink." — Mali. xx\-. 35 



Hang your dipper on the sky. In the country the 
dipper, or tin cup, hangs on the side of the pump. 
To-day you are to listen to the story of a thpper 
that hangs on the sl<v. There are several stars in 
the northern heavens so situated as to look like a 
long-handled dipper. Get some one to help vou 
to find them and to show you how much they 
really look like a dipper. The two stars forming 
the further edge of the bowl are called "the 
pointers," as thev point up to the north star. This 
is the star to which ^ve hitch our ships when 
crossing the ocean. 

There is a story or legend which pretends to 
tell how these seven bright stars came to form 
the dipper. Once in a country far away the peo- 
ple were dying of thirst. There had been no rain 
for months. The rivers and springs and brooks 
had all dried up. The plaiits and flowers had 
withered and died. The birds were so hoarse that 
they could not sing, and the whole land was sad 
and mournful. 

One night a little girl crept out of her house 
with a tin dipper in her hand and passed quietly 
into a wood near by. Kneeling down under a 
tree, she folded her hands and praved that God 
would send rain, if it were only enough to fill her 
little dipper. She prayed so long that at last she 
fell asleep. When she awoke she was overjoyed 
to find her dipper full of clear, cool water. 

Remembering that her mother was dying of 
thirst, she did not even wait to moisten her own 
parched lips, but, taking her dipper, she hurried 
home. In her haste she stumbled, and, alas ! 
dropped her dipper. Just then she felt something 



move in the grass beside her. It was a little dog 
that had almost fainted for want of water. 

She picked up the fallen di]iper and, to her 
great surprise, found that not a drop of its 
precious contents had been spilled. Pouring out 
a few drops of water into her hand, she held it 
out for the dog to lap up. He did so, and seemed 
nnich re\'ived. But as she had poured out the 
water the tin dipper had been changed into a 
beautiful silver dipper. Rushing to her home, 
she gave the dipper to her mother. 

"Oh !" cried her mother, "I will not take it. I 
shall not live anyway. You must drink it. You 
are younger and stronger than I." 

As she gave the dipper back untouched it 
changed to shining gold ! She was just about to 
give each person in the household a spoonful, 
when she saw a stranger at the door. He looked 
sad and weary, and she handed him the dipper. 
He took it saving: "Blessed is he who gives a cup 
of cold water in his name." 

A radiance shone all about him, and immedi- 
ately the golden dipper became studded with 
seven sparkling diamonds. Then it burst forth 
into a fountain which supplied the thirsty land 
with water. 

The seven diamonds rose into the air. Higher 
and higher they ascended, until at last they 
reached the sky, and there the\' changed into 
the seven bright stars wdiich form the Great 
Dipper. 

A legend only, but in it there is a lesson — a 
lesson from the study of astronomy. The story 
teaches us the value of unselfish service. 



THE LAND OE EORGET 

"The land of forgetfulness." — Psalm ]xxx\'iii. 12 



The train starts early every morning. There are 
several trains a day for the Land of Forget. 
Children are on ever)' train. Sometimes they 
come back on the switch-train. We are all tour- 
ists and every one takes a trip to the Land of 
Forget. Many things are left on the train as we 
journey to this strange land. Guess how many 
articles are left in one year in the London cabs 
bv passengers on their way to the Land of For- 
get. Can't guess? Then I shall tell you, as I 
have the report : 19,000 umbrellas, 850 canes, 267 
rugs, 742 opera-glasses, 3,239 purses, 926 articles 
of jewelry, and a number of birds, dogs and cats. 



All on their way to the Land of Forget. Some 
foolish and funny things are done in the Land 
of Forget. Here is one : 

A French writer, engaged upon a profound 
scientific work, rang for his valet. He then sat 
down and wrote this note: "Kindly send some 
one to arrest the conk. She has stolen my 
purse." This he directed to the chief of police. 
The valet appeared, and, while waiting for his 
master to finish writing", picked up something 
lying under the talde. As he took the note, he 
said, "Monsieur, here is your purse; I found it 
under the table." 



12 



LITTLE SERMONS FOR LFrTLE FOLK 



"Ah, just in time; give me the note, Jean." 
He hurriedly added the postscript : "I have 
found my purse; it is unnecessary to send any 
one," and handed the missive to the valet, sa\-- 
ing, "Deliver this at once; it is important." He 
then went back to his writing. 

There are too manv trains and cabs to the 
Land of Forget. I say too many ; but there 
should be one, at least, each day. There are some 
things we should take to the Land of Forget. 
God made tliis land, and it has room for many 
things we should not find room for here. Learn 
this verse before )ou take the morning train. 
Do not forget ! 

"If you know of a thing th.lt will darken the joy 
Of a man or a woman, a girl or a boy. 
That will wipe out a smile, or the least way annoy 

A fellow, or cause an\' gladness to cloy, 
It 's a pretty good plan to forget it." 

But how many things there are that we should 
not forget. Fathers, mothers, and friends are very 
much troubled bv the children's forget. "I forgot !" 
"I did not think!" I fear some children take too 
manv trips to the Land of Forget. There must 
be a hole in the corner of vour memory. AA'hat a 
strange hole it is. If you have "a date" for a 
party or a day off with a friend it never falls out 
through that hole. If a visit is promised you, it 
would not fallout even if the hole were as large 
as the pocket. But the letter to be posted, the 
errand to be run, or something for mamma as big 
as a barn-door, will drop out through the hole. 
I know a bov who said, "I fordegot." I once read 
a storv a Mr. Roach wrote on how to cure the 
"fordegot." 

"Did my son post that letter I gave him ^-ester- 
day?" asked Ned's inamma. 

Ned's hand dived into the inside pocket of his 
coat and brought out a crumpled letter. 

"I'm so sorrv, mamma!" he cried, seeing the 
grieved look on his mamma's face. 

"I, too, am sorr}'," responded mamma, "as that 
was a letter inviting Aunt Amv to stop off here 
on her way home." 

""Oh ! oh !" cried Ned. "And I do so love /\unt 
Amy !" 

'Tf 'S'ou catch this mail the letter may 3'et be in 
time," said mamma. 

Ned ran oft' as fast as he could to post the 
precious letter. 

Another dav it was a school-Iiook whicli lie left 
out in tlie orcliard. It rained all niglit and ruined 
liis book, Ned tried to remember, but always 
forgot. One day Uncle Charlie heard Ned say to 



Ins mamma, "Plague take my forgettery!" Uncle 
Charlie knew that Ned had been forgetting again, 
and he thought of a plan to cure Ned of his habit. 

"Ned will be eight years old Saturday," said 
mamma that day at tea-time. 

"Can I have a party with both boys and girls, 
and plum-cakes and candles?" cried Ned. 

"Of course you can," said Uncle Charlie. "I'll 
buv the candles — eight and one to grow on." 

"I'll bake the plum-cake," said mamma. 

"I'll write the invitations," said sister Nell. 

"I'll make a heaping platter of fudge," laughed 
Aunt Amv, who. after all, had gotten the delayed 
letter in time. 

"And I," said papa, "will send up some ice- 
cream." 

Ned danced for joy, and ran off to school with 
a hop, skip, and jump. Saturday morning Ned's 
mamma sent him ever so far to Mr. Benton's, who 
raised vegetables and chickens to sell. Try as he 
would, Ned could not get home until just dinner- 
time ; but he told Mr. Benton all about his party, 
and ]\Ir. Benton gave him a cute little bantam 
chicken for his birthday present. 

"Do you think," asked Ned at dinner, "my 
party will come right at two o'clock?" 

"Well, well," said L^ncle Charlie, "I forgot all 
about those candles!" 

"I've been so bus}'," said Aunt Amy, "that I 
forgot to make the fudge !" 

"And I," said papa, "forgot to order the ice- 
cream. It is too bad !" 

"It does n't matter at all," said sister Nell, "for 
I forgot to invite any one to the party." 

Ned's face grew longer and longer, and he 
looked at his mamma, who had not spoken yet. 
Surely she had not forgotten ! 

"Why," laughed Uncle Charlie before mamma 
could speak, "it'll be a forget party, won't it?" 

This was too much. Ned burst into tears and 
ran up to his own little room. After what seemed 
a long, long time to Ned and to Ned's mamma, 
too, she stole up-stairs with a great big piece of 
plum-cake, for, try as she would, mamma conid 
not forget her little boy's birthday. 

After that, when Ned forgot, which he seldom 
did, some one would say, "I guess we would bet- 
ter have another forget party." 

Solomon was a very, very wise man, and he 
said: "My son, forget not my law; but let thine 
heart keep mv commandments." Now, I believe 
we have the real cure for "fordegot." Put the 
things you are to remetnber in your heart as well 
as in your brain. There is no hole in the pocket 
of your heart. 



LITTLE SERMONS EUR LLrTLE EOLK 



A STONE IN THE ROAD 

"Take ye a\va\- the stone." — JoJni xi. 39 



Christ used these words of a stone at llie tloor 
of a tomb. I want to speak of another kind, of 
stone which shotdd also be taken away. .V stone 
in the middle oi the road. You will see what I 
mean if \-on listen. 

The Roman year began with r\Ltrcii ; September 
was the seventh month. Thev took the name 
from the Latin sc/'toii. meaning seven. It was 
their seventh month, but is our niri:h. Some of 
you boys and girls are wishing it \',-ere i'.ow the 
seventh month, as the seventh month is the begin- 
ning of vacation. The ninth month is the begin- 
ning of school work. September is probablv the 
most ditiicult month of vour school \"ear. A diffi- 
cult vocation after a delightful vacation. You 
sav. "Wdiv must we master all of these difficult 
lessons? AMi\- can not our school life be maile a 
little easier for us? I am sure I shall never need 
these miserable lessons when I grow up." The 
answer to vour questions is. that everv diflaculty 
vou meet and conquer makes vou stronger. The 
pathwav of life has many difficulties, some of 
them in the very middle of the path. These are 
the stones in the middle of the road. School work 
is teaching you how to roll away the difficulties 
you will meet. Every lesson you fail to conquer 
wdll make the next one more difficult. A story 
will teach vou the lesson and help you to under- 
stand September school work. 

A long time ago there lived a king who took 
great delight in teaching his people good habits. 
"Bad luck comes only to the lazy and the care- 
less." he would sav ; "but to the bus}- workers God 
gives the good things of this life." 

He put a large stone in the middle of the road 
near his palace one night, and set himself to 
watch to see what the people passing that way 
would do. Earlv in the morning a sturdy old 
farmer came along, with liis heavy ox-cart loaded 
with corn.. "Oh, these lazy people!" he cried, 
driving his oxen to one side of the road. ''Here 
is this big stone right in the middle of the road, 
and nobody has taken the trouble to remove it." 
He went on his way, scolding about the laziness 
of other people, but never thinking of touching 
the stone himself. 

Xext came a }-oung soldier, singing a merry 
song as he \\-alked along. A gay feather was 
stuck in his hat and a big sword hung at his side. 



He held his head so high that he did not see the 
stone, and. stumbling (wer it, he fell flat in the 
dust. He got to his feet and began to storm at 
the country people. "Silly drones!" he cried, 
"think of their having no more sense than to 
leave a stone like that in the middle of the 
road." Then he passed on, but he did not sing 
anv more. 

Six merchants, with their goods on packhorses, 
came down the road an hour later, bound for the 
fair which was to be held near the village. When 
thev reached the stone, they found that the road 
was so narrow that thev could hardly dri\'e their 
horses between it and the wall. "Did any one 
e\xr see the like?" thev demanded. "There is 
that big stone in the road, and not a man in all 
the country but is too lazy to move it." 

So the stone lav there for three weeks. It was 
in everybody's way. and yet everybody left it for 
somebodv else to remove. Einallv, the king sent 
word to all his people to meet together near his 
palace on a certain day, as he had something to 
tell them, \\dien the dav for the meeting came, 
a great crowd of men and women gathered in 
the road. The old farmer was there, and so were 
the merchants and the }'oung soldier. "I hope the 
king will find out what a lazy set of people he 
has around him." remarked the farmer. 

The sound of the horn was soon heard, and the 
king was to be seen coming tov.-ard them. He 
rode up to the stone, dismounted from his horse, 
and said: "My friends, I was the one who put 
this stone here more than three weeks ago. Every 
one of you has seen it, and yet every one has left 
it just where it was and has scolded his neighbor 
for not moving it out of his way." 

Then he stooped down and rolled the stone 
over. Beneath it was a small iron box in a hole 
scooped in the road-bed. The king held up the 
box so that all the people might see what was 
written on a piece of paper which was attached to 
it. These were the words : "Eor him who lifts the 
stone." The king opened the box and turned it 
upside do«'n. As he did so, a beautiful gold ring 
and twenty bright gold coins fell jingling to the 
ground. 

The best things of this world and the best gifts 
iif the next are to be found under the difficulties 
which we roll away. "Take ye away the stone." 



14 



LITTLE SERMONS FOR LITTLE FOLK 



THE CAREFUL BOY 

"There is a bov here that hath five barley loaves and two fishes." — John vi. g 



What a pleasant thing it is to know a bright- 
witted, careful boy! So many boys think it just 
right to be heedless, to have no order in their 
dress, their room, their daily life, to be sloppy 
and careless at all times. Now here is the story 
of a bov whose name is not known, and perhaps 
never will be. but who won everlasting fame and 
a place in the lieautiful tiospel of Christ, because 
of his careful disposition. In the days when our 
Lord Jesus lived on earth, he went about preach- 
ing and teaching and healing in Judea, and his 
great name attracted thousands of people. They 
followed him about from one place to another, to 
hear his beautiful teaching, to receive his advice, 
to get his aid for the sick, the blind, the deaf, 
the insane, the dying, and even the dead. He 
cured the sick and often raised the dead to life 
again. 

On one occasion five thousand men followed 
him far from the cities into a deserted place. 
They were so far from any town where bread 
could be bought, that there was danger of some 
suffering from starvation. In their joy at fol- 
lowing Jesus many had neglected to provide them- 
selves with suificient food. Jesus therefore said 
to Philip : "Whence shall we buy bread, that 
these may eat? And this he said to try him, for 
he himself knew what he would do. Philip an- 
swered: Two hundred pennyworth of bread is not 
sufficient for them, that every one may take a lit- 
tle. One of his disciples, Andrew, the brother of 
Simon Peter, saith to him: There is a boy here 
that hath five barley loaves and two fishes: but 
what are these among so many?" 

Five small loaves of barley bread, about the 
size of our breakfast rolls, and two dried fishes, 
was certainlv a small amount upon which to feed 
five thousand men. But the Lord Jesus knew 
what he would do. He asked the boy for his 
bread and fish, blessed the food, and sent the 
disciples and others around to divide it among 
the five thousand men. And as they went, behold 
the five loaves and the two fishes kept on increas- 
ing in quantity, until the five thousand men had 
eaten all they were able to hold. Then our Lord 
ordered the men to gather up the remnants, and 
they filled twelve good-sized baskets with bread 
and fish ; so that thev had still enough to keep 
them from hunger on their march back to the 
towns. "Now those men, when they had seen 
what a miracle Jesus had done, said: This is of 



a truth the prophet that is to come into the world. 
Tesus therefore, when he knew that they would 
come to take him by force, and make him king, 
fled again into the inountain himself alone." 

The men could not find our Lord, so they had 
to march back home, telling everywhere the 
storv of the miracle; and of course they must 
have praised to the skies that boy who owned 
the five barlev loaves and the two fishes. What 
became of him? Who was he? There is no 
answer to these questions, but it is easy enough 
with a little thinking to discover just what kind 
of a boy he was. In that big crowd of men and 
boys of all ages, he was the only one that thought 
of taking food along with him into the desert. 
The crowd was very much excited over the won- 
derful things which Christ was doing every day. 
He was giving sight to the blind, hearing to the 
deaf, walking to the lame, health to the sick, 
pardon to sinners, courage to the cowardly, clean- 
ness to the lepers, and even life to the dead. The 
strong men began to think of making Christ their 
King. All were so e.xcited that they followed 
our Lord without proper thought for their jour- 
ney, and would have perished in the desert had 
not Christ taken thought for them. 

Now this one boy had the same thought for 
himself which Christ had for the crowd. His 
good mother said to him, very likely : Take this 
lunch with you, for you may be a long time on 
the road; and bring me word of all that you see 
and hear about this wonderful Jesus; and do not 
eat your lunch too soon, as so many boys do, 
but keep it for the last moment ; then you will 
not faint on the road, or be forced to beg of 
strangers. The lad did just as he was told; or, 
if she did not tell him, his good sense directed 
hiin what to do. He hid his lunch in his little 
dress, and kept it a secret, so that the bolder men 
would not know of it. Like every boy, he kept 
close to the front of the procession, where Jesus 
and his disciples walked. When the crowd 
camped out at night, sleeping in the inild air, the 
boy kept close to Jesus. 

They marched so far that all the food was gone 
in a short time, and men began to faint on the 
way; so that Jesus had to order a rest and to 
consider the question of feeding the crowd. The 
boy heard the discussion, he saw the fainting 
men, he knew the danger pressing on them. Up 
to this moment he had been a careful boy; now 



LITTLE SERMONS EOR LLITLE EOL) 



15 



he became a generous boy. He tolil the (liscii)le 
of his five loaves and two fishes, and offered them 
to Jesus for tlie crowd. How the i;dad diseiple 
must ha\'e smiled on tlie lad and blessetl liini, 
both for his careful haliit and his t;"encrous lieart ! 
How the I^ord Jesus must have embraced lum 
and blessed him for his prudence and his kind- 
heartedness! He g'a\-c the lad his reward on the 
spot. He took his bread and fish and mulllplieil 
it five thousand times and more, fie honored 
him before the crowd. He ga\-e him a place in 
his beautiful Gospel, tlius making a mere boy an 



example of prudence and generosity for all the 
world, for all time. What a fortunate boy! 

What became of him? Can't i,'OU see for your- 
self? lie e.irried the blessing of Jesus home 
with him. Alread\- he bad shown his careful- 
ness, his courage, his kindness, his obedience. I 
think he showed those qualities for the rest of 
his life, and the blessing of our Lord |esus con- 
firmed them in him forever. I would like to have 
known that lad, but the next best thing is to know 
and lii\-e the liovs of tii-da\' who are like this boy 
of the Gospel in their good qualities. 



WRINKLES AS WITNESSES 



"Thou hast tilled nie \\ith wrinkles, which is a witness a2:ainst nie 



-Job .xvi. 8 



Job had boils on his mind as well as on his body, 
many trials to make hmi sad, so man\- trials to 
rob him of his patience. W e find one verv pecu- 
liar reason that made him complain: Jus z^'nnklcs. 
He said thev would witness against him. How 
verv manv people since the time of Job have com- 
plained because of wrinkles. 

You young people have beautiful faces, but if 
you let selfishness, envy, jealousy and other sins 
get into vour heart, wrinkles will write the result 
on vour face. Thev will be a witness against you. 

Once upon a time, as most fairy stories begin, 
there lived in a large citv a little girl who was 
^■erv much dissatisfied because she could not have 
her own wa_\- in e\'ery thing. And she was very 
selfish, too, giving no thought to the comfort of 
others until she was first attended to. One day 
she came to her mother and said : "Mamma, I 
want a new cloak." 

"But I can not afford to buy you a cloak," said 
the mother. 

"Why not?^" asked the little girl pettishly. 

"Because I haven't the money to spare ; be- 
sides, your brother needs a coat. Wear your old 
cloak for a little longer, my dear." 

"Well, I won't, and so there!" 

The little .girl had no sooner uttered these 
words than she slammed the door and went up- 
stairs to her room. For a long time she lay on 
the bed crying with vexation. Finally, she arose 
and went to the closet where she kept her clothes, 
and took down the old cloak. 

"Hateful old thing!" she exclaimed, flinging 
the garment across the room, "I'll never wear 
you again." At that moment she caught sight of 
her own reflection in the looking-glass over her 
bureau, and she was so startled at beholding such 
a face that she did not recognize herself at all. 



"Keep on, keep on," said a tinv voice. "You'll 
soon make vourself old and ugly and wrinkled." 

The little girl was surprised liut not frightened, 
for the voice did not sound harsh. 

"Speak again, please," she begged, "and let me 
see you." 

"Not until you smile," said the mysterious 
voice. 

"I don't feel like smiling, for I am very much 
vexed," said the little girl. "Are vou a fairv?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh, come quickly, and let me see you." 

Then she smiled very sweetly, and the fairy 
showed herself — a tinv creature all dressed in 
white, ami she stuod on a pincushion. 

"Now, then, listen to me," went on the fairy. 
"Think of \our mother and your brother, and not 
of vourself. Above all things, don't get angry 
again." 

'A\'hv not?" asked the little girl. 

"Anger brings wrinkles and unhappiness. Shall 
I come again ?" 

"Yes, indeed. Come often. And, dear little 
fairv, forgive me for acting so, won't you?" 

"I will. Good-by." 

"Good-by," answered the little girl in a happy 
voice. She then began to sing very softly to 
herself. 

Y hen she went down-stairs again, she took the 
cloak, and said as she entered the room : 
"}ilamma, why, my cluak isn't so old as I thought, 
I'm not going to get angrv again, because I don't 
want to be naughty and have wrinkles before I 
,get old — trulv old, ^'ou know." 

.And the little girl kept her promise and was 
very happ\', because she thought more of others 
than she did of herself. This ma\' be hard to do, 
but there is nothing better that any one can do. 



16 



LITTLE SERMONS FuR LLLTLE FOLK 



THE LITTLE BROWN BED 

A SER^IOX FOR EASTER 

"I sleep, Ijut my heart waketh." — Soiuj of Solompn v. 2 



Did you ever see a flower ,s;oing" asleep? A\ hen 
it begins to droop and hang' its head, it is gettins; 
sleepy. AWatch it and yon will sec how snugly it 
rolls itself up in a little brown lied vou call a seed. 
In this bed the flower is sound asleep. The flower 
sleeps all Winter, "as snug as a liug in a rug. 
What }-ou call "Spring," the season after Win- 
ter, is "]\lother Nature," going from bed to bed 
to wake up her flower friends asleep in the seeds. 
She has a liig famil)- to wake up. She lifts the 
shades of Winter and lets in the bright light. If 
thev do not wake she sprinkles water on them, 
shakes them, and keeps her temper until all are 
awake. Some are easv to wake and they get 
right up, others are very sleepy and dear old 
Spring has to be ver\' patient. The\" sleep, but, 
'way down in the seed something is awake. They 
sleep but the seed-heart waketh. Siime one whose 
name I do not know, a friend of "]\Iother Spring," 
says : 

"Far down in ]\Iolhcr Earth a tiny seed Awas 
sleeping, safeh' wrapt in a warm bed. The little 
seed had been asleep for a long, long time, and 
now somcbodv thought it was time to wake up. 
This somebody was an earthworm, a friend of 
Mother Spring. He had been creeping about and 
found all the seeds in the neighborhood had 
roused themselves. They were pushing their 
roots down into the earth and lifting their heads 
up through the soil into the bright sunshine and 
fresh air. So when tlie worm saw this little seed 
still sleeping, he cried, 'Oh, aou lazv fellow, 
wake up ! .\II the seeds are awake and growing, 
and '\'0u have slept long enough !' 

" 'But how can I grow or move at all in this 
tight brown sleeping-gown?' said the seed, in a 
drowsy tone. 

" 'Wh_\-. push it off: that's the wav the other 
seeds have done. Just move about a little and it 
will come off.' All tlie time the worm was telling 
him how happy the other seeds were, now that 
they had lifted their heads into the sunshine. 

'''Oh, dear! Oh, dear!' said the seed, 'what 
shall I do? I am so sleepy I can't keep awake 
any longer,' and he fell asleep again. 

"The little seed slept soundly for a long time. 
At last he awoke and found "Mr.iher Spring 
throwing water in his face. She called it a Spring 
shower for the May flower. 



"Tlien he felt so warm and happy that he cried, 
'I realh- believe I am going to grow after all. 
A\dio woke me up and helped me out of bed? I 
don't see anv one near by.' 

" 'I woke vou,' said a soft voice close by. 'I 
am a sunbeam. Mother Spring sent me to wake 
Aou, and mv friends the rain-drops washed the 
sleep out of your eyes.' 

" '(")h, thank Aou,' said the seed. 'You're all 
ver\- kiml. AA'ill }'0U help me to grow into a plant 
too?"' 

" '\'es.' s.aid the sunbeam, 'I'll come as often as 
I can to help ^-ou, and the rain-drops will come 
too. If vou work hard, with our help, you W'U 
become a beautiful plant, I'm sure.' 

" 'But,' said the seed, 'how did vou know that 
I was sleeping here? Could you see me?' 

'' 'No,' said the sunbeam, 'but ^Mother Spring 
saw \-ou. She saw vou beneath the ground trying 
to grow. She called the rain-drops to her, and 
said, 'One of mv seed-children is sleeping down 
there, and he wants to grow. Go down and help 
him and tell the sunbeams to follow you and wake 
the seed, so that he ma}- begin to grow as soon as 
he will.' 

" 'How kind she is,' said the seed; 'if she had 
not seen mc sleeping here I should have slept on 
and on and on, slept forever in mv little brown 
bed. How did }ilother Spring know I was here?' 

" 'She is a servant of God, who knows all 
tilings. He knows where everv seed sleeps and 
sends Mother Spring with her friends to wake 
them up.' 

"'How can I thank him?"' said the seed. 'Wdiat 
can I do that will please him verv much ?' 

" 'Grow into the best plant that vou possibly 
can,' said the sunbeam. 'That will please God 
most of all.' 

"So the seed grew into a beautiful vine. "He 
climbed higher and higher toward the heavens, 
from which the Father smiled down upon him 
to reward his labor." 

Tliere is some one more beautiful and valuable 
than a flower. Some one wlio needs sleep more 
tlian the seed needs it, and who says : 

"Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep." 
This some one is a little child. 

Before going to sleep vou should say, "In the 
morning wake me from sleep— mother, wake me 



LITTLE SERMONS VOK ITl'TLE EOLE 



17 



from sleep." How often vou would be late fur 
breakfast, late for school, late for church, if 
mother did not wake ^■ou. 

\\'hat part of you wakes up the rest of vou 
when mother calls' The part of \ou that does 
not sleep. The part that keeps on thinknic; while 
you sleep. You call the thinking- a dream. Wdiat 
does our text say? 'T sleep, but ni)- heart wak- 
eth." It is that part that will never slec|i. Wdiat 
we call death the Bible calls sleep. There is a 
short sleep from ^\■hich we \\ake in the morninL;'. 
Thetr there is a bmg sleep from which we will 
wake some morning in hea\'en. There is a beau- 
tiful story in the ninth chapter of ^Matthew. 

A man came to Christ and told him that his 
dear little girl was dead. Christ went home with 
the father, and when he saw the little girl, he 
said, "She is not dead, but sleepeth." The people 
laughed at Christ and told him the little girl was 



dead. Clirist woke her as gcnllv as Spring wakes 
the seed, Innk her b\- the haml and she arose. 
She \\ as onl\- asleep, fhe word "cemetery" means 
siccpiiig-placc. .\s iMothcr Spring wakes the 
Seed, so \-iiur nidtbcr wakes you. (.Xir greatest 
friend, Christ, will some dav wake all who sleep, 
all who are called dead. Listen ! 

"Wv belo\-ed spake, and saiil unto me, 'Rise up, 
mv love, ni\' fair one. ami come awa\'. for lo, the 
Winter is past, the rain is over and gotie, the 
flowers appear on the earth : the time of tlie sing- 
ing of liirds is come, and the voice of the turtle 
is heard in our land : the fig-tree putteth fortli 
her green figs, and the \-ines with the tender 
grapes give a good smell, -\rise, ni}' love. m_\' 
fair one, and come awa^'.' " 

Would it not be splendid to write on the tomb, 
'T sleep, but my heart waketh." 

Rejoice, for Spring is here! 



WHAT IS GOOD SICCESS?^ 

'Do according to all the law, . . . then thou shalt ha\"e .uooJ success." — Joshua i. 7, 8 



^^'HAT should we mean when we say that a man 
has had a very successful life? Should we mean 
simplv that he has succeeded in doing what he 
undertook to do? Xo, not nrerely that. A great 
writer tells us that if the thing done is bad, then 
the doer has not succeeded. Good success, then, 
requires that things done shall be good things, 
things done because they are good and not merely 
for the sake of doing something, of working 
one's selfish will. 

Children who are old enough to understand 
the meaning of the following words will do well 
to think of them often, and children not yet quite 
old enough to understand them should be led in 
the way that will bring them where the)' can un- 
derstand them in due time. These are the words 
of Nathaniel Hawthorne, who wrote manv beau- 
tiful things for children of different ages: 

"Lending vour strength, be it great or small, to 
the united struggle of mankind, this is success, 
all the success that anybody meets with." 

And here are wise words written b_\' a good 
woman, Mrs. A, T- Stanle\', of Lincoln, Kansas, 



which a learned clergvman tells us we shuuM do 
well "to paste up somewhere in sight": 

"He has achieved success who has li\'ed well, 
laughed often, and loved much; who has gained 
the respect of intelligent men anil the love of lit- 
tle children ; who has filled his niche and accom- 
plished his task : wlio has left the world better 
than he found it, whether bv an improved poppv, 
a perfect poem, or a rescued soul ; who has never 
lacked appreciaticjn of earth's beautv or failed to 
express it; who has ahva\'S looked for the best 
in others and given the best he had; whose life 
was an inspiration, whose memory a benediction." 

The men and women, the bo_\-s and girls, who 
reach success of this kind are those who do what 
they do as nearl_\- as the\- can according to the 
law of right living — the law of right itself, the 
law of truth, the law of love. In work and in 
play, in school and in vacation, at home or abroad, 
in the ilaily doings of the bus\' world, let each 
one keep the law of right living, and to each the 
promise will be fulfilled: "Thou shalt have good 
success,'' 



/•^"/^ 




■■AND SL'DDENLY THERE WAS WITH THE ANGEL A 
MULTITUDE OF THE HEAVENLY HOST PR.'^.ISING GOD." 

— Luke ii. 13. 
18 



HYMNS THAT EVERY 
CHILD SHOULD KNOW 



r^-^^^^^3^3®2^5^a^^ [ti r^&^&^i 



s^^r^^ 



LITTLE CHILDREN, COME TO JESUS 

Little children, come to Jesus; 

Hear him saying, "Come to me" ; 
Blessed Jesus, who to save us 

Shed his blood on Calvary. 
Little souls were made to serve him, 

All his holy law fulfill ; 
Little hearts were made to love him, 

Little hands to do his will. 

Little eyes to read the Bible 

Given from the heavens above ; 
Little ears to hear the story 

Of the Saviour's wondrous love; 
Little tongues to sing his praises, 

Little feet to walk his ways, 
Little bodies to be temples 

^\'here the Holy Spirit stays. 



THERE'S A FOLD BOTH SAFE 
AND HAPPY 

BY M.\RY MAXXIXG 

There's a fold both safe and happy. 

Where the little ones may dwell ; 
And secure the Shepherd guards it. 

For the lambs he loves so well ; 
Through the pleasant fields he leads them, 

By the streamlets fresh and clear; 
Rest and gladness gives he to them, 

And his blessed voice they hear. 

Many of his lambs are resting. 

In a yet more peaceful fold. 
Sheltered from the heat of summer, 

Sheltered from the winter's cold; 
In a bright and happy country. 

Where 'tis always fresh and fair; 
And the presence of the Shepherd 

Bideth ever with them there. 

Of that fold the doors stand open, 
And its rest each one may win ; 



For the welcome of the Master 

Greetcth all who enter in ; 
Tiien will l)e the happy meetings. 

\A'ith the lambs that went before. 
One lilest fold and one dear Shepherd, 

Safe at home for evermore. 

THE LITTLE LORD JESUS 

BY M.iiRTIN LUTHER 

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed. 

The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head. 

The stars in the bright sk\- looked down where he 

lay- 
The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay. 

The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes. 

But little Lord Jesus no crying he makes. 

I love thee. Lord Jesus ! look down from the sky, 

And stay by my cradle till morning is nigh. 

Be near me. Lord Jesus ; I ask thee to stav 
Close by me forever, and love me I pray. 
Bless all the dear children in thy tender care 
And fit us for heaven to live with thee there. 

WHEN THE LITTLE CHILDREN SLEEP 

When the little children sleep, 

Little stars are waking; 
Angels bright from heaven come. 

And till morn is breaking. 
They will watch the livelong night, 
Bv their beds till morning light; 
When the little children sleep. 
Stars and angels watch do keep. 

When the little children \\'ake. 

Little stars are sleei>ing. 
Angels bright in raiinent white, 

Still their watch are keeping; 
They will watch by night or day. 
Never let them go astray. 
When the little children wake, 
When the little children wake. 



«9 



20 



HYMNS THAT EVERY CHUT) SHOULD KNOW 



JESUS, HOLY, UXDEFILED 

I;Y MRS. E. SllEl'COTE 

Jesi:s, licil)-, iinrlefile<l. 

Listen tu a little child ; 

Thou hast sent the glorious light, 

Chasing far the silent night. 

Thou hast sent the sun to shine 
r)'cr this glorious world of thine, 
\A'armth to give and pleasant glow, 
On each tender flow'r lielow. 

Now the little birds arise. 
Chirping gaily in the skies ; 
Thee their tiny voices praise, 
Li the early songs they raise. 

Thou, bv whom the hirds are fed, 
Cdve to nie mv dailv bread; 
And thv holv Spirit give. 
Without wh.om I cannot live. 



THOU THAT ONCE ON MOTHER'S 
KXEE 

BY FRANCIS TURNER PALORAVE 

Thou that once on mother's knee 
Wert a little one like me. 
When I wake or go to bed. 
Lay thy hand about my head ; 
Let me feel thee ver\' near, 
Jesus Christ, my Saviour dear. 

Be beside me in the light. 
Close beside me all the night; 
Make me gentle, kind, and true, 
Do what mother bids me do ; 
Help and cheer me when I fret. 
And forgive wdien I forget. 

Thou art near me when I pray, 
Though thou art so far away ; 
Thou my little hymn wilt hear, 
Jesus Christ, my Saviour dear; 
Thou that once on mother's knee 
\A'ert a little child like me. 



ONE LITTLE STAR 

BY SUS.VN C00I,I1)i;e 

OxE little star in the starr\- night. 
One little beam in the noonda\' light. 
One little drop in the river's might, 
AA'hat can they do, oh, what can thev do? 



One little flow'r in the fiowerful spring. 
One little feather in one little wing. 
One little note when the many birds sing. 
All are so little, feeble and few. 

Each little star has its special ray. 
Each little beam has its place in the day. 
Each little river drop impulse and sway; 
Feather and flower and songlet help too. 

Each little child can some love-work find, 
Each little hand and each little mind. 
All can be gentle and useful and kind. 
Though they are little, like me and like you. 

THERE IS A HAPPY LAND 

BY ANDREW YOUNG 

There is a happy land. 

Far, far away, 
Wdiere saints in glory stand, 

Bright, bright as day. 
O how they sweetly sing, 
"Worthy is our Saviour King," 
Loud let his praises ring, 

-Praise, praise for aye I 

Come to that happy land. 

Come, come away ; 
Why will )-e doubting stand. 

Why still delay? 
O we shall happy be. 
When from sin and sorrow free. 
Lord, we shall dwell wdth thee. 

Blest, blest for aye ! 

Bright in that happy land, 

Beams ev'ry eye ; 
Kept by a Father's hand. 

Love cannot die. 
O then to glory run ; 
Be a crown and kingdom won, 
And bright, above the sun. 

We'll reign for aye ! 

I LOVE TO TELL THE STORY 

DY KATHERINE FIANKEY 

I LOVE to tell the story 

Of unseen things above, 
Of Jesus and his glory, 

C)f Jesus and his love. 
I love to tell the storv. 

Because I know 'tis true; 
It satisfies my longings 

As nothing else can do. 



HYMNS THAT E\'ER\' CHILI; SHOULD KN(J\V 



21 



Refrain 

I love to tell the st()r\ , 

Twill be mv theme in glor\-. 

To tell the old, old stor\ 
Of Jesus and his lo\'e. 

I love to tell the stor\- ; 

'Tis pleasant to repeat 
What seems, eaeh lime I tell it. 

More wonderfully sweet. 
I love to tell the stor\- ; 

For some have never heard 
The message of salvation 

From God's own hol\- Word. — Rkf. 

I love to tell the stor\' ; 

For those who kno\v it best 
Seem hungering and thirsting 

To hear it like the rest. 
And when, in scenes of glory, 

I sing the new, new song, 
'Twill be the old, old story 

That I have loved so long. — Ref. 



ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL .VXD FAIR 

.-\.ll things beautiful and Lair, 
Earth and sky and balmy air, 
Sunnv field and shady grove. 
Gently whisper, "God is love !" 
Ev'rv tree and flow'r we pass, 
Ev'ry tuft of waving grass, 
Ev'ry leaf and opening bud. 
Seem to tell us, "God is good." 

Little streams that glide along. 
Soft green mossy banks among, 
Shadowing forth the clouds above, 
Softlv murmur, "God is love!" 
He who dwelleth high in heav'n. 
Unto us has all things given ; 
Let us as through life we move. 
Ever feel that "God is love ! " 

I AM r;OD'S LITTLE CHILD 

I AM God's little child. 

Made by his loving hand : 
These little eyes he made to see, 

These feet he made to stand. 

More wonderful I am 

Than I shall ever know. 
For to these limbs of mine is giv'n 

The wondrous power to grow. 



\\ hat can I do to please 

The God so gnod tn me ? 
I'll dailv tr\' each lnuir to live 

The life he l(i\es tn sec. 

These feet shall stand for him. 
These eyes look on his face; 

And as each vear I grow in height, 
I'll tr\- to grow in grace. 

This tongue shall speak no word 

His S|)irit grieves to hear, 
Nor shall this hand he made e'er cause 

One needless pain or tear. 

I'll see how Jesus lived 

By reading in his word. 
And try to be his little child 

Just following m\' Lord. 

JESUS LO\'ES ME! THIS I KNOW 

BY AX.\A B. W.\RXER 

Jesl's loves me ! this I know. 
For the Bible tells me so ; 
Little ones to him belong. 
They are weak, but he is strong. 

Jesus loves me ! he who died. 
Heaven's gate to open wide; 
He will wash awav mv sin, 
Let his little child come in. 

Jesus lo\'es me, loves me still, 
^^'hen I 'm very weak and ill ; 
From his shining throne on high. 
Comes to watch me where I lie. 

Jesus loves me ! he will sta\' 
Close beside me all the wav ; 
If I love him, when I die 
He will take me home on high. 

JESUS BIDS US SHINE 

Jesus bids us shine 

\\'ith a pure, clear light, 
Like a little candle. 

Burning in the night ; 
In the world is darkness, 

So we must shine. 
You in your small corner. 

And I in mine. 

Jesus bids us shine 

First of all for him. 
Well he sees and knows it 

If our light grows dim ; 



22 



HViMNS THAT KVKKV CHILD SHOULD KNOW 



He looks down from l>ea\en 

To see us shine. 
You in your small corner, 

And I in mine. 

Jesus bids us shine 

Then, for all around ; 
For many kinds of darkness 

In the world are found, 
Sin and want and sorrow: 

So we must shine. 
You in vour small corner, 

And I in mine. 



IF YOU CANNOT ON THE OCEAN 

BY ELLEN II. OATES 

If vou cannot on the ocean 

Sail among the swiftest fleet. 
Rocking on the highest billows. 

Laughing at the storms \ou meet. 
You can stand among the sailors. 

Anchored vet within the liay, 
You can lend a hand to help theuL 

As thev launch their boat awav. 



Did )ou hear the loving word — 

Pass it on ; 
Like the singing nf :i liird? 

Pass it on ; 
Let its music ]i\e and grow. 
Let it cheer another's woe. 
You liave reap'd what others sow, 

Pass it on. 

'Twas the sunshine of a smile — 

Pass it on ; 
Staving but a little wdiile ! 

Pass it on ; 
April beam, the little thing. 
Still it wakes the flow'rs of spring. 
Makes the silent birds to sing- 
Pass it on. 

Have you found the heav'niv light? 

Pass it on ; 
Souls are groping in tiie night. 

Daylight gone ; 
Hold thy lighted lamp on high. 
Be a star in some one's sky. 
He may live who else would die, 

Pass it on. 



If vou have not gold and silver 

Ever readv to command ; 
If vou cannot tow'rd the needy 

Reach an e\-er open hand. 
You can visit the afflicted. 

O'er the erring you can weep ; 
You can be a true disciple 

Sitting at the Savio'ir's feet. 

If vou cannot in the harvest 

Garner up the richest sheaf. 
Many a grain both ripe and golden 

Will the careless reapers leave ; 
Go and glean among the briers, 

Growing rank against the wall. 
For it may be that the shadow 

Hides the heaviest wheat of all. 



PASS IT ON 

BY HENRY BURTON 

Have you had a kindness shown; 

Pass it on ; 
'Twas not giv'n for thee alone, 

Pass it on ; 
Let it travel down the years. 
Let it wipe another's tears. 
Till in heav'n the deed appears — 

Pass it on. 



Be not selfish in thy greed, 
Pass it on ; 

Look upon thy brother's need. 
Pass it on ; 

Live for self, you live in vain; 

Live for Christ, you live again; 

Tive for him, with him yoii reign- 
Pass it on. 



WHAT A FRIEND WE HAVE IN JESUS 

BY JOSEPH SC'RIVEN 

What a Friend we have in Jesus, 

All our sins and griefs to bear ! 
What a privilege to carry 

Everything to God in prayer ! 
O, what peace we often forfeit, 

O, what needless pain we bear — 
All because we do not carry 

Everything to God in prayer. 

Have we trials and temptations? 

Is there trouble anywhere ? 
We should never be discouraged. 

Take it to the Lord in prayer. 
Can we find a friend so faithful, 

Who will all our sorrows share? 
Jesus knows our every weakness. 

Take it to the Lord in prayer. 



HYMNS THAT EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW 



Are we weak and heavy Laden, 

Cumbered with a load of care? 
Precious Saviour, still our refus^e — 

Take it to the Lord in praN-er. 
Do thy friends despise, forsake thee? 

Take it to the Lord in praver ; 
In his arms he'll take and shield thee. 

Thou wilt find a solace there. 



Aliide with me when ni,t;dit is nigh, 
L\jr without thee I d.are not die. 

Be near to bless me when I wake. 
Ere thro' the world my way I take; 
Abide with me till in thy love 
I lose myself in heaven above. 



23 



HARK, HARK, ]\IY SOUL 

BY FREDERICK W. F.M'.ER 

Hark, hark, my soul ! angelic songs are swelling 
O'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave-beat 
shore : 
How sweet the truth those blessed strains are 
telling 
Of that new life when sin shall be no more. 

Refrain 

Angels of Jesus, 

Angels of light. 
Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night, 
Singing to welcome the pilgrims, the pilgrims of 
the night. 

Onward we go, for still we hear them singing. 
Come, weary souls, for Jesus bids you come; 

And thro' the dark, its echoes sweetlv ringing, 
The music of the gospel leads us home. 

Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing, 
The voice of Jesus sounds o'er land and sea; 

And laden souls, by thousands meekly stealing, 
Kind Shepherd, turn their weary steps to thee. 

Angels, sing on, your faithful watches keeping, 
Sing us sweet fragments of the songs above; 

Till morning's joy shall end the night of weeping. 
And life's long shadows break in cloudless love, 

SUX OF MY SOUL 

BY JOHN KEBLE 

Sux of my soul ! thou Saviour dear. 
It is not night if thou be near ; 
Oh, may no earth-born cloud arise 
To hide thee from thy servant's eyes ! 

When the soft dews of kindly sleep 
My weary eyelids gently steep. 
Be my last thought — how sweet to rest 
Forever on my Saviour's breast ! 

Abide with me from morn till eve, 
For without thee I cannot live; 



I LOOK TO THEE IN EVERY NEED 

BY SAMUEL LONGFELLOW 

I LOOK to thee in every need. 

And never look in vain; 
I feel thy touch. Eternal Love, 

And all is well again ; 
The thought of thee is mightier far 
Than sin and pain and sorrow are. 

Discouraged in the work of life, 

Disheartened by its load. 
Shamed by its failures or its fears, 

I sink beside the road,— 
But let me only think of thee, 
And then new heart springs up in me. 

Thy calmness bends serene above, 

Afy restlessness to still ; 
Around me flows thy quick 'ning life 

To nerve my falt'ring will ; 
Thy presence fills my solitude; 
Thy providence turns all to good. 

Embosomed deep in thy dear love, 

Held in thy law I stand ; 
Thy hand in all things I behold, 

And all things in thy hand; 
Thou leadest me by unsought ways, 
And turn'st my mourning into praise. 



BRINGING IN THE SHEAVES 

BY KNOWLES SHAW 

Sowing in the morning, sowing seeds of kindness, 
Sowing in the noontide and the dewy eves; 

Waiting for the harvest, and the time of reaping, 
We shall come, rejoicing, bringing in the 
sheaves. 

Chorus 

Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves, 

We shall come, rejoicing. 

Bringing in the sheaves; 
Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves, 

We shall come, rejoicing, 

Bringing in the sheaves. 



24 



HYMNS THAT EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW 



Sowing in the sunshine, sowing in the shadows, 
Fearing neither clouds nor winter's chilling 
breeze : 
By and by the harvest, and the labor ended, 
We shall come, rejoicing, bringing in the 
sheaves. 

Going forth with weeping, sowing for the Master, 
Tho' the loss sustained our spirit often grieves; 

When our weeping's over, he will bid us welcome, 
We shall come, rejoicing, bringing in the 
sheaves. 



HOW SWEET THE NAME OF 
JESUS SOUNDS 

BY JOHN NEWTON 

How sweet the name of Jesus sounds 

In a believer's ear ! 
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, 

And drives away his fear. 

It makes the wounded spirit whole. 
And calms the troubled breast: 

'Tis manna to the hungry soul, 
And to the weary, rest. 

Dear name ! the rock on which I build ; 

My shield and hiding-place. 
My never-failing treasury, filled 

With boundless stores of grace. 

Jesus, my Shepherd, Guardian, Friend: 
My Prophet, Priest, and King; 

My Lord, my life, my way, mine end. 
Accept the praise I bring. 

Weak is the effort of my heart. 
And cold my warmest thought ; 

But when I see thee as thou art, 
I'll praise thee as I ought : 

Till then, I would thy love proclaim 

With every fleeting breath ; 
And may the music of thy name 

Refresh mv soul in death. 



AM I A SOLDIER OF THE CROSS 

BY ISAAC WATTS 

Am I a soldier of the cross — 

A follower of the Lamb? 
And shall I fear to own his cause, 

Or blush to speak his name? 



In the name of Christ the King, 
Who hath purchased life for me, 

Through grace I'll win the promised crown, 
Whate'er my cross may be. 

Must I be carried to the skies 

On flowery beds of ease, 
While others fought to win the prize, 

And sailed through bloody seas? 

Are there no foes for me to face ? 

Must I not stem the flood? 
Is this vile world a friend to grace. 

To help me on to God? 

Since I must fight if I would reign. 

Increase my courage. Lord ! 
I'll bear the toil, endure the pain. 

Supported by thy word. 



ONWARD, CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS 

BY S.ABINE BARING-GOULD 

Onward, Christian soldiers ! marching as to war, 
With the cross of Jesus going on before. 
Christ, the Royal Master, leads against the foe; 
Forward into battle see his banners go. 

Onward, Christian soldiers ! marching as to 
war. 

With the cross of Jesus going on before. 

At the sign of ti-iumph, Satan's host doth flee; 
On then. Christian soldiers, on to victory ! 
Hell's foundations quiver at the shout of praise: 
Brothers, lift your voices, loud your anthems 
raise ! 

Like a mighty army moves the Church of God: 
Brothers, we are treading where the saints have 

trod; 
We are not divided, all one body we— 
One in hope and doctrine, one in charity. 

Crowns and thrones may perish, kingdoms rise 

and wane ; 
But the Church of Jesus constant will remain; 
Gates of hell can never 'gainst that Church 

prevail ; 
We have Christ's own promise — and that cannot 

fail. 

Onward then, ye people, join our happy throng; 
Blend with ours your voices in the triumph-song: 
"Glory, laud, and honor unto Christ the King'' — 
This through countless ages men and angels sing. 



HYMNS THAT EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW 



25 



THERE WERE NINETY AND NINE 

BY ELIZABETH C. CI.EFHAXE 

There were ninety and nine tliat safely lav 

In the shelter of the fold ; 
But one was out on the hills away, 

Far off from the gates of £;old — 
Away on the mountains wild and bare, 
Away from the tender Shepherd's care. 

"Lord, thou hast here thy ninety and nine. 

Are they not enough for theei" 
But the Shepherd made answer, "Tliis of mine 

Has wandered away from me ; 
And although the road he rough and steep, 
I go to the desert to find m\- sheep." 

But none of the ransomed eyer knew 
How deep were the waters crossed ; 
Nor how dark was the night that the Lord 
passed through, 
Ere he found his sheep that was lost. 
Out in the desert he heard its cry- 
Sick, and helpless, and read\' to die. 

"Lord, whence are those blood-drops all the way, 
That mark out the mountain's track?" 

"They were shed for one who had gone astray. 
Ere the Shepherd could bring him back." 

"Lord, whence are thv hands so rent and torn ^" 

"They are pierced to-night by many a thorn." 

But all through the mountains, thunder-riyen, 

And up from the rock}' steep. 
There arose a crv to the gate of heayen, 

"Rejoice! I ha^'e found my sheep!" 
And the angels echoed around the throne, 
"Rejoice! for the Lord brings back his own." 



WHAT I LR'E FOR 

BY G. LIXX.EUS BANKS 

I LiyE for those who loye me. 

Whose hearts are kind and true. 
For the heaven that smiles above me. 

And awaits my spirit too ; 
For all human ties that bind me, 
For the task by God assigned me. 
For the bright hopes yet to find me, 
And the good that I can do. 



Bards, patriots, martyrs, sages, 
The heroic of all ages. 
Whose deeils crowd histr>ry's pages, 
And Time's great volume make. 

I live to hold communion 

With all that is divine. 
To feel there is a union 

'Twixt Nature's heart and mine ; 
To profit bv affliction, 
Reap truth from fields of fiction. 
Grow wiser from conviction. 

And fulfil God's granfl design. 

I live to hail that season. 

By gifted ones foretold. 
When men shall li\'e by reason, 

And not alone by gold : 
When man to man united. 
And e\-ery wrong thing righted. 
The whole world shall be lighted 

As Eden was of old. 

I live for those who love me. 

For those who know me true. 
For the heaven that smiles above me. 

And awaits mv spirit too : 
For the cause that lacks assistance. 
For the wrong that needs resistance. 
For the future in the distance. 
And the good that I can do. 

WORK, FOR THE NIGHT IS COAMING 

BY IRA D. SAX KEY 

\\'0RK, for the night is coming! 

Work through the morning hours; 
Work while the dew is sparkling, 

\\'ork 'mid springing flowers: 
Work when the day grows brighter, 

Work in the glowing sun ; 
W^ork, for the night is coming. 

When man's work is done. 

Work, for the night is coming. 

Work through the sunny noon : 
Fill brightest hours with labor, 

Rest comes sure and soon. 
Give every flying minute 

Something to keep in store : 
Work, for the night is coming, 

^^'hen man works no more. 



I live to learn their story 
Who suffered for my sake ; 

To emulate their glory. 

And follow in their wake- 



Work, for the night is coming, 

Under the sunset skies ! 
While their bright tints are glowing 

Work, for daylight flies. 



26 



HYMNS THAT EVERY CHILD SHOULD KNOW 



Work til! the last beam fadeth, 
Fadeth to shine no more : 

Work while the night is dark'ning, 
When man's work is o'er. 



JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN 

BY BERNARD OF CLUNY 

Jerusaleii the golden, 

With milk and honey blest. 
Beneath thy contemplation 

Sink heart and voice opprest. 
I know not, oh, I know not. 

What joys await us there ; 
What radiancy of glory, 

What light beyond compare ! 

They stand, those halls of Sion, 

All jubilant with song. 
And bright with many an angel, 

And all the martyr throng. 
The Prince is ever in them; 

The daylight is serene; 
The pastures of the blessed 

Are decked in glorious sheen. 

There is the throne of David; 

And there, from care released, 
The shout of them that triumph, 

The song of them that feast; 
And they wdio, with their Leader, 

Have conquered in the fight, 
Forever and forever 

Are clad in robes of white. 

O sweet and blessed country. 

The home of God's elect ! 
O sweet and blessed country. 

That eager hearts expect! 
Jesus, in mercy bring us 

To that dear land of rest; 
Who art, with God the Father, 

And Spirit, ever blest. 



ROCK OF AGES 

BY A. M. TOPLADY 

Rock of Ages, cleft for me. 

Let me hide myself in thee ! 

Let the water and the blood. 

From thv riven side which flowed, 

Be of sin the double cure, 

Cleanse me from its guilt and power. 

Not the labors of my hands 
Can fulfil thy law's demands : 



Could my zeal no respite know, 
Could my tears for ever flow, 
All for sin could not atone, 
Thou must save, and thou alone ! 

Nothing in my hand I bring; 
Simply to thy cross I cling; 
Naked, come to thee for dress; 
Helpless, look to thee for grace; 
Foul, I to the fountain fly ; 
Wash me. Saviour, or I die ! 

While I draw this fleeting breath — 
When my eye-strings break in death- 
When I soar to worlds unknown- 
See thee on thy judgment throne- 
Rock of Ages, cleft for me. 
Let me hide myself in thee ! 

JESUS, LOVER OF MY SOUL 

BY CHARLES WESLEY 

Jesus, Lover of my soul. 

Let me to thy bosom fly, 
While the nearer waters roll, 

While the tempest still is high; 
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, 

Till the storm of life is past; 
Safe into the haven guide : 

receive my soul at last ! 

Other refuge have I none; 

Hangs my helpless soul on thee; 
Leave, ah ! leave me not alone, 

Still support and comfort me. 
All my trust on thee is stayed; 

All my help from thee I bring; 
Cover my defenceless head 

With the shadow of thy wing. 

Thou, O Christ, art all I want ; 

]\Iore than all in thee I find ; 
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, 

Heal the sick and lead the blind. 
Just and holy is thy name ; 

1 am all unrighteousness ; 
False and full of sin I am ; 

Thou art full of truth and grace. 

Plenteous grace with thee is found, 

Grace to cover all my sin ; 
Let the healing streams abound, 

Make and keep me pure within. 
Thou of life the fountain art. 

Freely let me take of thee; 
Spring thou up within my heart, 

Rise, to all eternity. 



HYMNS THAT EVERY CHILD SHOUIT) KNOW 
SOFTLY XO\Y THE LIGHT OF DAY 



27 



riY G. W. nOANE 

Softly now the lisjlit of dav 
Fades upon mv sight away ; 
Free from care, from labor free. 
Lord, I would ciinuiunie with thee. 

Thou, whose ail-pervading e\e 
Naught escapes, without, within, 
Pardon each infirmit\-. 
Open fault, and secret sin. 

Soon, for nie, the light of day 
Shall forever pass aw"av ; 
Then, from sin and sorrow free. 
Take me, Lord, to dw"ell with thee. 



ABIDE ^VITH :me 

BY IIEXRY F. LYTE 

Abide with me. fast falls the eventide : 
The darkness thickens: Lord, with me abide; 
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee. 
Help of the helpless, oh abide with me. 

Sw'ift to its close ebbs out life's little day; 
Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away; 
Change and decay in all around I see: 

thou who changest not, abide with me. 

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word, 
But as thou dwell'st with thy disciples. Lord — 
Familiar, condescending, patient, free — 
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me. 

Come not in terrors, as the King of kings. 
But kind and good, with healing in thy wings; 
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea ; 
Come, Friend of sinners, thus abide with me. 

1 need thy presence every passing hour; 

What but thy grace can foil the tempter's power? 
Who like thyself my guide and stay can be? 
Through cloud and sunshine, oh abide with me. 

I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless. 
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. 
Where is Death's sting? where, Grave, thy 

victory ? 
I triumph still, if thou abide with me. 



Flold thou thv cross before my closing eyes, 
Shine through the gloom, and point me to the 

skies : 
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain 

shadows flee ; 
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me. 



NEARER, MY GOD, TO THEE 

BY S.\.RAH FLOWER ADAMS 

Nearer, my God, to thee, 

Nearer to thee ! 
E'en though it be a cross 

That raiseth me, 
Still all my song shall be, 
Nearer, my God, to thee — 

Nearer to thee ! 

Though, like the wanderer, 

Daylight all gone. 
Darkness be over me, 

M}' rest a stone : 
^'ct in m_\' dreams I 'd be 
Nearer, my Goil. to thee — 

Nearer to thee ! 

There let the way appear 
.Steps unto heaven ; 

All that thou send'st to me. 
In mercy given ; 

y\ngels to beckon me 

Nearer, m}- God, to thee — 
Nearer to thee ! 

Then with my waking thought 
Bright with thv praise. 

Out of mv stonv griefs 
Bethel I '11 raise: 

So by my woes to be 

Nearer, my God, to thee — 
Nearer to thee ! 

Or if on joyful wing. 

Cleaving the sky. 
Sun, moon, and stars forgot, 

Upward I fly ; 
Still, still, my song shall be. 
Nearer, my God, to thee — 

Nearer to thee ! 



Fr^matarb n frint h^ Brian ^ Co . of Paris and N Y 




THIS liCTUKK IS 



y sir |.,JiuaKeyiK.lj4. 

ANGELS' HICADS. 

.; (,F THE FINEST BY THE ENGLISH ARTIST WHO I^MNTEl. IT; AND WE ARE TOLD THAI 
IT PRESENTS FIVE DIFFERENT VIEWS OF ONE LITTLE GIRL'S HEAD. 




er T)oys ^Oirl-s 

BY JOHN MARTIN 
(HOI^AN 3HEPARP) 



f'mi^tireyoM often wi^li a^Wi^h, 
J^WfiicKi^ all right to do. 
Aiv^ very o£ten thing^syoAi wij^li 
Arc e>pt to come to^^^u. 



' W^H i^ju^t &^ jSort o£ Prefer. 
I AndPK^D^ ^Q Wi^hQ^ too; 
0o whyrsptj^ra^ an Gs^jrne^tWi^ti, 
And ^GG it eJl don\G true. 




oTihave aItiend,thatfei\<li^6od. 
tie ha^ i\o breeder jg^ 

Of>"o\ir^,de£M'Qirl &T)oy. 





29 



30 



PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



?3PD/f/ER5 /'orLITTLE BOY^BJ 



w//mmK 



m/iim/m 



THE/e#OL/m 




e^rdod,! told ^lie tod^gyC£-) 



}} I t"h.o\idh± it WD.^ DJY ed^ way 
To'hide poirS^thinp^ that I had done 
Cr om Mother: evnd ^on\ every or\e;. 




Help n\e tolet^rrvwhen I r^Jivyo\ir\( 
TfveArvo Give tru^t^ o. lyir^p torv0ue( 
Wi\eivl tell Mother I w§^b^d, O 
I hope ^T\e "woKt "be very j^'^d.;'^<S)-^ 
Sor iC ^\ihelp n\e, dod, I Ctxrvp^^ 
Ij:co^ \ip to be octv KoTve|5t iiy-mC^ 

AM^N 




PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND (IIRLS 



31 




^ANGmi 




\]p| e^rdQd,to-d^Y3Vi pcxwme when 
3i ^ Iwo^p po ^vs.Oy^ ^si\d po btsd. 



Yo\x p'^^^lc\ow very, very ,5^d 
InxOvde poorMotKer tKeT\. 
De^rdod,t^Tvt>5vv£uI feelinp Ctxrrve, 
Ai\d Med TT^Keort^tK cruel pvc\, 
Ai\d zxW tKe \iplirve^3 mtKirv 
]Pk\^Ked out ju^t like ex PlMne. 

I Kkow, I kr\ow I ^l\o\ildri.t d^re 
To let d\^\ wicked teitvper lDuri\. 
Te5vCl\n\e Corvtrol,Kelpn\e tolee^rix 
lb ^top it wKeiv it',5 tfver e . 
Teo^dcviTve to'Know tK^t evei^r fit 
OSAr^^ev n\^Ke^ nve le^^ ei.iyfe.T\; 
Vle^e jShpw me hpw each, time I C6j\ 
Juj5t quer\cK M\d ^iiYotl\er it.^^^j^^. 



32 



PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



^ INFIGHTINGS ^ 

^^d-odJhc^d cxCight to-dexy; 
_^ Ii\r<D.ge 1 puT\cked e\i\d>dt 
I didnl: Ce^re ir\ s^ny "wegy^ 
leveiv ^crextcKed exTvdbit. 
I pi\aoded juptlike e\ ^e^ve^^ge te^t 
I bunded v/itKovit Keedii\0. 
I didr\t ^eena to c^^e ttve lee^^^t 
TK^st Iavcx^ jsoiled Mid bleedir\6. 

O 4od, I krvov^^\i do ivot c^re 
Who woi\ tKtd bee^^tl^ PiOKb. 
b\itIfavow^\/7elltb^t^\iwere there 
Arvi i^cw tKe brutal ^i^t. 

QplG2x^e,4od,teadiinebetterplacK 
WFddK look^ at Courcvc^e cjravet^ 
And only f i(g\ts wfienblow.3 are struck 
I>eP ending otKerp breivel^ 

U> ^ .a 



^r->^^ 




PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 33 



LordiwesnttoToe e^Kixidxt 
WltK6rn^p^bripht&l5I\ce e^re^b. 



I v/'Osr± to go ii\to iKe ftdht 
Ai\d do nv level besfer" 
Bui Kri^htp 5re got\e.^rT\6.pp I CDv1\ 
Ju^t Ti\Dke believe, ai\d I C5i\ try 
To be tK dexllexi^d: Cjentle "Mbocv, 
Ard breveLy do, or die. 

I hi\ow tK^t l^d of Knight i^ be^t , 
For tincveiS 5re jsomewhed different. 
But I C5r\ 6p \iporL ^^.'que^bf, 
Ju0t bs^ trve otKerp werdj. 
Ar\d Mother, ^Ke will watch 5nd ^ee 
Howl do bedtle Cor the rioht. 
Then ;3hell be redKer proud of n\e. 
Her Gentle Mevn e^GadKniOht. 

© AMEN. 




>> ^ aiM^^ ^^^ ^ 



34 



PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 




A^^^eOINe TO SCHOOL/'^^^A 

ear 60 d,a ^cKoold^ (Comers again. 
^WitKmar^/ thii\g3 for me to do. 
Please ble^»5 my hear t and guideirybr^dn. 
O, maKe me earn.e^t, strong and true. 
My le^3on? may »5eem dull to rr\ej 
AL\d ^tudy Kour»5 long and di3A_9 
But iC YoM Kelp me,tKen TU ^^ee 
How f a>5't tho^e u^JePul Kour^ ^h^^ 

DearQod^thi^A^orld V 2:>e\^to bqyp*,- 
There V »5omuchto ^ee and learn. 
Each day bring^^ wonder^ita;^!^ andjdy^; 
If? hard to know wKicK way to turn. 
O 6od^plea^e watcK me every da^^. 
And when I needyo\i,tate my hand. 
O (^uide me ,5aCely or\ n\y V/^ay; J) 
And help nr/ heart to understand. 

<^--^^^ .AMEN. 



PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 35 



^PR/^Jt^RS /or LITTLE QIRL3TP 







7*' 


< 
















'1 












% 


E 


■d 










_ 



m PBAKb gf m 

eardod^bu ^re rr^/ Erier\dJ Know 
Ar\d"Ybu 2sre ^we^^ rveeor: 
Ple&v>;^e come ii\feo tt§/ Keexrt 5JA.d ^Kow 
How I c^>:rv coi\qLier I^ee^n 
PlessSe be e^Kirvd oC iSerdinel, 
TK^i Svlwcg/^ ^ive^ n\e edd ; 
And wfver\ Im tri0htei\ed\&uv/ilUell 
Me 720^ to be eSredd. 

Dee^Cjod^tKere e^re ^on\e tKiTv6^ forme 
Too bi(^ to \i!\cLen5'tesi\d, 
But I ^>n\ y5are thsd I cesix ^See 
IC You JLVt Kold rr\y K5J\d. 
TKeirwery ^ooi\ I vdll be bre>ve 
Bec5M)^e e\ Friend 1^5 here, 
WKo liKe^s to waicK,da\d v/Ko will $^>we 
My Ke5srt Pronv ever:y Fe^vT. amen. 



==^1 









36 



PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 






r4n 



Andhdpm.e,ple5.^e,totryto ^t^rt 
All over rid\i: tomorrow 
Help me to frdrm. of X\ms^ to do 
To nvdKe folK^ Ke^ppy wKeixlmtlroii^h. 
Iix^tead of mbkinO porrow. 

De5rQod,help me to pee 5iid know 
Thbt thouOhtPul service m5ke3 \^pC(M 

Ajoy to one e^otKer. 
i^olielp ine,(jod,to Wd^nt to jserve 
Ar\d thdrk of other ^, diid deserve 

The i^elfle^^ love of Mother 




PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS ' 37 




^^^I DISOBEDIENCE ^^M 

1 1 ^"hovildht 5Jwe^^ Keve ir^/ wc^/ 

^Kow n\e plbirJy tK^t li? i^ 
A preed mistake to divS'obey: 

1 "Krvow Im jui5 1 5^ little dirl 

But yS'till dear 6od, I ouoKt to ^ee 
TKatKotKer Krvow^s* wK^t I j5l\oulddo, 
Ai\d \(/Ket V readily be.s't £or me. 

Tea.cK TT\e to be obediei\t7^ 
0,n\5l5;e me edwe^yy^ ui\der^5'tcM\d 
That IE I n\ir\d wKer^ I e\nY3/oui\^ 
I TTSsist Crow wortly to command. 

Ood Ji\eed3/our cgj.idii\d hesivi. 
To leexd me cfurely dty by a^, 

1 i\eed\bur V/^iy^dom j^o TU ,^ee 
That aJl the frz.zecr/' dirlt? Qsek amek. 



38 PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 




dod, I ofiteix P\i?3 2vr\d fret-^^^j) 
V/hei\ MotKer <^ve^ me thmg^ to do. 
I dor\t go ridbi e\Kee\d to 0^t~^^ — ' 
Tfio^e very ^5'impl^ datiev5 throuOK. 
I do not do "OT/ \^or]\with: ca^re 
Ar\d I refo^e to u^e irg/ HeeNCl; 
Mythdvi^hi^ do we\nderii\0 everywhere 
When they ^ould 3tc§/ est Home in^iee^i 

O ^od,plea.^e help n^;^ heart to ^see 
How Oood it ij to loVe ir^Worh^^. 
Andm^Xe vc^ He\r\d>s refof e to he 
The thoughtle^^ »5erve<i\t^ o£ e^ iSHIRR.. 
O teescKine,(3od^ thet every d^/_5 
Will 6ive me more and better £wr^ 
If 1 but v/brk in. ju^t th.e ^^^/_J) 
To Oetn^WTlEjS eil -^llWXlj^u 



PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND (IIRLS 



39 



FOP 



V 



BOVS 



EML THOUGHTS 



THEFT 



Dear God, not even Alother could 
See all the Evil Thoughts that ■z^'oiihi 
Keep stealing in nn- heart to-dav, 
A\'hen I seemed onlv just at play. 
But oh, those E\-il Thoughts crept in 
Like serpents, telling me to sin. 
The Evil Thoughts all left a track 
Across mv heart, and made it black. 

I am ashamed to look and see 
If [Mother knows the thoughts in me. 
I cannot watch her dear eyes shine. 
For fear she'll see the sin in mine. 
Please make mv thoughts all good and 

pure. 
And then I may be very sure 
That I have true and honest eyes 
\\ here not one thought of e\'il lies. 

Amen. 

CRUELTY TO AXBL^LS 

Dear God, I struck my dog to-day. 

He cowered very low. 

And looking up, he seemed to say, 

"How could you treat me so?" 

And then, O God, I struck again, 

3ily ugly Avrath to spend; 

I gave a speechless creature pain, 

I hurt a faithful friend. 

O God, it was a Avicked burst 

Of brutal cruelty. 

To strike an animal Avhose first 

And last love is for me. 

It was a friend that has no speech 

To tell of need or pain. 

O God, forgive the sin and teach 

Me not to sin again. Amen. 



Gon, it's verv hard to sav 

r 

That I'm a thief, but I must tell. 
\ ou saw me take a thing away 

1 hat wasn't mine, — I knew it well. 
Because I wanted it was not 

The least excuse for sicaliiig it. 
Because it wasn't much, I've got 
No reason for concealing it. 

So please, God, help my heart to feel 
The strength that honest living brings, 
For only cowards want to steal. 
Or covet other ])eople's things. 
^lay I look straight at everything 
That isn't mine, respecting it. 
And maA' nn' hand and heart Ijoth bring 
Just Honesty, protecting it. 

Ail EN. 

WASHING 

Dear Lord, sometimes mv hairgets quite 

L'ntidy, rough, and muss}-; 

And when my Mother makes it right 

I'm apt to think she's fussy. 

j\Iy hands get black with different dirts, 

And when no one is present, 

I don't half wash ; I think it hurts 

To make myself more pleasant. 

Please make me feel that Cleanliness 

Is just a proper virtue, 

And that cold water's here to bless, 

And never here to hurt you. 

Please .show me how I always can 

Do simple things, that lead to ■- .■,:': 

The making of a gentleman, ' -' 

And wash, because I need to. Amen. 



40 



PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



KIND THOUGHTS Ax\D 
GENTLE WORDS 

Dear God, teach me \^•hen I am young 
To help my heart to guide my tongue. 
Put Love and Goodness in my mind, 
And thoughts that make my words all 

kind. 
Words are just made to tell a thought. 
So when we speak, I'm sure we ought 
To use the words we know are best, 
And then forget about the rest. 

Help me, dear God, to try to say 
A lot of Kind Words every day. 
And help my Heart to keep a store 
Of kindly thoughts to make some more. 
Please help me, God, so then I can 
See zvJiy kind thoughts just make aM(n?. 
Brave Men are kind, because they know- 
That Good Kind Thoughts just make 
them so. Amen. 



GOING TO BED 

Dear Lord, I'll soon be in my bed, 
To go to sleep and rest. 
And Thoughts will come into my head. 
Please make them just the best. 
Please send the kind of thoughts that 

make 
Good dreams and helpful sleep. 
So that to-morrow, when I wake, 
I'll have good thoughts to keep. 

And when to-morrow morning's Sun 
Brings work and play again. 
Help me to play and have some fun, 
And work with might and main. 
Please bless my family, and give 
Lis happy hearts and bright. 
And be our Eriend, so we can live 
Near You, dear Lord — Good Night. 

Amen. 



FOR GIRLS 



DISCONTENT 



Dear God, to-day I moped around, 
I almost sulked, and acted blue. 
I sighed and puttered, fussed and 

frowned. 
And couldn't find a thing to do. 
My eyes were blind, and didn't see 
A hundred happy things, just meant 
To occupy a girl like me. 
And stop my selfish discontent. 

Oh, please, God, help my heart to find 
The happy things that come each day. 
Please give me just the kind of mind 
That thinks in just the wisest way. 
And help me every day I live 
To see the blessings You have sent. 
But, best of all, dear God, please give 
My heart the Blessing of Content. 

Amen. 



THE SULKS 



Dear God, I'm sulky now and then. 
It's hard to say what makes me so; 
But Sulks get right inside me when 
I'm cross or selfish, then they grow. 
I just can feel them giving me 
A gloomy face and sullen pout ; 
So You and every one must be 
Uncomfortable, when I'm about. 

Dear God, I'm sure You know a way 
To stop the Sulks, because they're bad. 
Please close my heart to them, for they 
Make me just miserable and sad. 
Please change the look upon my face, 
And teach me that a simple smile 
Will cure the Sulks, and in their place 
Put good looks, in a little while. 

Amen. 



PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



41 



FOR BOYS 




HEROISM 

EAR GOD, I know that the days of Ancient Knighthood are 
over, and 1 am glad that Vonr Love is hringing Peace to our 
World. So I cannot put on niv Armor and fight with Lance 
and Sword or Rifle and Saber. 

But, O God, teach me that I can be a True Hero just the 
same and also a Fighter, but that my battles will be of a nobler 
kind. 

O God, give me the HEL^IET of WISDOM, and the SAA'ORD of an honor- 
able and kind Gentleman ; the SLIIELD of Mcrey and Justice, and theBI^EAST- 
PLATE of Loz'c and Patience. 

Teach me, O God, that calm Endurance is nobler than touchy resentment; 
that wise. Kind A\'ords have more power than fierce self-justification, and that 
LOV'E and TRUTH in my Pleart are greater than pride and self-glory. 

O God, give me a deep belief in all this and help me day by day so that 
I may always be a TRUE HERO. O God, guard the Life of a Boy. 

AMEN. 
HABITS 

GOD, You know the Heart of a Boy, and You know that it is 
like a Xew Garden, waiting for the Gardener to plant Good 
Seeds in it. You also know that the Garden Soil of my Young 
Pleart may not see the difference between the Seeds of Good 
and Evil. 

So, O God, plant the Seeds of Good Habits in my Heart. 
'Slake them to grow and flourish and bloom into GOOD all the 
days of my Life. 

Teach me, O God, to form GOOD HABITS, and give them great strength, 
so that no Evil ones may grow in my Heart. 

Please make it very plain to me that it is as hard to break a GOOD HABIT 
as a bad one. Show me that the more Good Habits I have, the less I will fail 
in my Life Work, for then the Habit of daily strength will always be mine. 
O God, take care of my Boy's Heart. AMEN. 




42 



PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



TAll^lOTlSM 

GOD, \\'hile I am young and when my Heart is open and 
ready to take in the best influenees, I pray You to show me the 
meaning of True Patriotism. 

Oh, fiU my Heart with gratitude that I am the Son of a 

Freeborn ]\[an. Teach me the meaning of Freedom. Teach me 

to respect the bright Flag of my Country, and make me feel 

a noble thrill of Pride when I see it spread abroad. 

Teach mc, O God, to revere the memory of my Forefathers who fought or 

died in the defense of Pilierty and Equal Rights of all men. Give me a brave, 

a true Heart, O God, so that I may In'C as a true American Boy should live. 

O God, liless mv dear Land and make it stand first among all the Nations, 
upholding her Standard of Right, Truth, and Freedom. 

While I am young, O God, give me the Heart of a true PATRIOT. 

AMEN. 





SELF-REEIANCE 

J ^M^^V^^ GOD, I am only a Bov and I have not grown up, cither in 
1 n^' V/w Mind or Bod}'. I need Your Help and Wisdom every day. 

O God, please come into my Pleart and live within call of 
mv Mind, so that when I am self -doubting and do not know 
how to decide, or act in the rigJit Avay, Your Love and Wisdom 
will be near, to guide and guard me. 

O God, be the Good and Wise part of me, a Boy, so that I 
may use that Good and Wise Part of me in times of need. Then I will make no 
mistakes. 

Y'ith Your Help. O God, I will learn SELF-RELIANCE. I will thini 
noldy and keenly, without pride or harshness, and I will aet wisely and f|uick]y, 
without boastfulness or doing injury to others. Your Good shall grow in me 
da}- lyv day, so that I shall nc\-er doubt nu'self or fear to act for ni\sclf: and 
finally T shall be glad to do my Duty and proud to accept the Responsibilities 
of a SELF-RELIANT MAN. 

AMEN, 



PRAYERS l'\)R 150VS AND C.IRLS 



43 



SELF-COxXTROL 

EAR GOD, when Ang-er (ir Resentment or [""ear takes fast hold 
of me and tries to turn Gotxhiess and Re;ison out <jf ni)' Heart, 
— then, O God, help me. 

Teaeh nic Self -L'ojitrol. I'ro\-e to niv Mind that Anqx-r leaves 
me weakened and less of a Man when it masters inc. I jiray 
that You \vill show me i)lainl_\- that Resentment and Eear open 
the Doors of my Heart to many h^A'ils that wait outside of me. 
O God, 1 want to know and be verv sure that if I master E.vil that tries to 
rule inc. I shall grow to he a brave and kind blaster of Men. 

Oh, help me to see that with Self-Con I I'ol nu' wisdom shall be the best and 
mv Thoughts the purest. And in the end, mv Rife shall be a Good Influence 
for Other [Men and alwavs full of Joy and Usefulness for myself. So, O God, 
teach me SERF-CONTROL. 

AMEN. 




FOR GIRLS 



GSEFLTLNESS 

EAR GOD, the Davs of mv life come and go, for You intended 
niA' life to be made of many Good Days. 1 pray of You, Dear 
God, to make each one of these days a Golden d'ime of Useful- 
^ ness and kindlv help to others. 

O God, guide my Life and bless my eyes, so that I can see 
that my busy Hands will give me a hap])y Heart and a clear- 
thinking ]Mind. With Your help my Heart wdll love my duty 
and my ]\Iind Avill show me how to do it perfectly. 

O God, lead me, so that I will go about my Flome with my glad eyes open, 
so that I may see plainlv what things are best to do; in this way I will prove 
that a little Girl may be uscfnl in the best way. 

O God, make my loving Heart and skillful Hands necessary to my Home, 
and O God, l)less this Home of mine and all those who live in it. O God, help 

me, a Child, to be USEFUL and KIND. 

- AMEN. 




44 



PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



PATIENCE 

GOD, my Life is very young, and my Heart and Mind see 
new and strange things each day. It is right that this should 
be, for You want me to learn and improve in Mind and Heart, 
So, O God, come into my Heart and teach me gentle 
PATIENCE. Show me that I should control the quick fire in 
me that makes me petulant and impatient. Help me to see that 
each time I close my wise lips upon an impulsive tongue, I have 
won a VICTORY over myself. 

Oh, help Jiie, a little Girl, to be calm and thoughtful in manner when tried, 
and quiet in actions at all times. 

O God, help me to see that PATIENCE will make me a true and nobk 
Woman, who must win Love and Respect all the days of her good life. God, 
give Your Love to me, a Child. 

AMEN. 




CHEERFULNESS 

EAR GOD, You give this World and all of us Children Love, 
Life, Joy, and Sunshine. You bless us with a great host of 
Good Things. O God, make me grateful for all this as I should 
be. Help me each day to show that I love the blessings You 
give to me, by being glad to live, glad to serve others, and 
glad to add my CHEERFULNESS to Your dear Blessings. 
O God, help me, so that the Svmshine in my Heart will 
shine out from my happy eyes, and make more blessings in my Home. 

Help me to always be cheerful in times of Work and Study ; Watching and 
Waiting; Illness and Health. May my Cheerfulness be a light to those about 
me in davs of darkness or sunshine, in sad days or glad days. 

O God, keep Your Love ever in me, and so make the Heart of a little Girl 
a place of Sunshine and CHEERFULNESS. 

AMEN. 




PRAYERS FOR BOYS AND GIRL& 



45 




/D 



TIDINESS 

\xm\P%^EAR god, You made this World of ours very beautiful. The 

blue Sky and the green Grass-Fields are sweet and clean and 

good to look at. The Flowers You gave us are fragrant and 

i\^I^ pure and there is Order and Tidiness in all the work of Your 

^ kind hand. 

^ O God, make me worthy of this goodness and order that is 

J\^ about me, so that I may be a sweet and pure part of it all. 
Teach me, I pray You. to loye the looh and feeling of Tidiness in my Home, 
and oh, giye me a pure Heart and skillful hands so that I can make things tidy 
and orderly about me. 

Help me to be always clean and tidy about myself, for clean Hands go with 
a pure Heart and Cleanliness is a yirtue You loye to haye near You and in 
the fair World You made for me. O God, teach me to 7vanf to be TIDY in all 
ways, for that will prove that my Heart is full of pure Thoughts and sweet 
AMshes. O God, bless my Home and all those beneath its roof. 

AMEN. 





' p- 


w 








\ 




ft^ 






Jm 










kM 










' 





THOUGHTFULNESS 

GOD, my Friend and Helper, look into my Heart and see if 
selfish thoiighllessness lives there. When I think only of ;;;v- 
self, dear God, please forgive me and touch my Heart with 
Your Love, so that it will always be thoughtful of others. 

Help me to see that I will be happier and better in every 

way, if I look outside of myself and info the lives of those about 

me. Oh, make me gentle and full of kind Thoughts. 

Dear God, lead me by Your kind hand to the sides of those who need my help 

and kindness. Help me each day of my life to see plainly the many chances I 

have to be thoughtful. 

O God, guide me, guard me and live in my Heart so that I may give loving 
THOUGHTFULNESS to others many times each day. 

AMEN. 




46 



ANIMALS OF THE BIBLE, FOR LITTLE FOLK 



ANIMALS OF THE BIBLE, FOR LITTLE FOLK 



THE ASS 

The ass (or donkey), as most of us know it, is a 
stupid, patient animal that needs a good deal of 
urging to keep it going at all. But the ass of 
Palestine, of which we often read in the Bible, 
was a strong, nimble animal, with plenty of spirit. 
Perhaps one reason for the difference may be 
that the ass is very sensitive to cold, and so it is 
happier and healthier in a warm climate than in 
a cold one. Another reason is that the Jews and 
Arabs took greater care of their asses, and prized 
them more than we do. They were as well 
groomed and fed as were the horses, and they 
grew to be fine, large animals. The ass of the 
East can trot and canter for hours without grow- 
ing tired, and is specially useful for climbing 
hills. So hanrlsome and large were the asses of 
Palestine, that rich people chose to ride on them, 
and people of high rank rode on pure white ones. 
We read of Abraham riding on an ass to ]\Iount 
Moriah. All children know the story of Balaam's 
ass. How the prophet was riding to Moab in dis- 
obedience to God, and the angel of the Lord stood 
in his way with a drawn sword in his hand. Ba- 
laam did not see the angel, but the ass did and 
turned aside, and when Balaam struck her she 
spoke and rebuked him. Asses had an important 
part in the bringing of Saul, the first King of 
Israel, to the throne. The asses of Kish, Saul's 
father, had strayed, and he sent Saul with a ser- 
vant to hunt for them. They went from place to 
place, but could find no trace of them. At last 
they came to the place where the prophet Samuel 
was living, and went to see if he could tell them 
where the lost asses were. Samuel had been 
looking out for Saul, because God had told him 
he was sending him the man he had chosen to be 
king. So before he let him go Samuel anointed 
him as king. But the greatest honor ever given 
to an ass was when the Lord Tesus rode up to 
Jerusalem on "a colt, the foal of an ass." As he 
rode in peaceful triumph, with the mother ass 
running beside, the people spread their garments 
in his way and shouted, "Hosanna to the Son of 
David!" 

THE BEAR 

There is a picture that shows a happy family 
party of bears, the mother and her two children 
playing, and the father coming to look on. What 
funny, clumsy-looking animals they are! Yet 
bears are in many respects wonderful and inter- 



esting. They are clever and happy-natured. 
Their sight, smell, and hearing are very keen 
and so they can easily be taught and trained. It 
is natural for a bear to stand on his hind legs, as 
we sometimes see performing bears do. He 
usually stands like that when going to meet an 
enemy. The she-bears are very careful over 
their young ones, and they wash them with their 
tongues just as a cat washes her kittens. The 
Syrian bear, of which we read in the Bible, is 
usually quite easy-tempered, and is only fierce 
and cruel when wounded or attacked. He knows 
how strong he is, and so he is quite fearless, and 
an angry bear would be a very dangerous foe to 
meet. Chiefly is it fierce if its young ones are 
touched or stolen. Several times in the Bible the 
fury of a she-bear when robbed of her young is 
used as a picture to describe a very angry person. 
Once, when the prophet Elisha was going to a 
city called Bethel (the place where Jacob had his 
wonderful dream of the ladder that reached to 
heaven), some rude, foolish children came out 
and mocked and jeered at him, calling out, "Go 
up, thou baldhead ; go up, thou baldhead"; and 
we read that two she-bears came out of a wood 
and killed forty-two of them. I once heard a boy 
making game of a poor, deformed cripple, and it 
reminded me of the children who mocked Elisha. 
He soon stopped and looked ashamed when I 
spoke to him, but I thought he must have been 
cruel-hearted to hurt the feelings of one who 
already had so much to bear. We should try to 
case the biu'dens of such bv kindness and sympa- 
thy, and never add to them bv our unkindness. 
Before sin came into the world, the lion and bear 
could live and play with the sheep and cows; and 
in Isaiah xi. 6, 7, the prophet tells that in the 
glad reign of Christ, when sin is put away for- 
ever, "the cow and the bear shall again feed and 
lie down together." 

THE CAMEL 

What queer heads, long necks, and strange ugly 
humps camels have ! We seldom see one; but in 
the East, in Arabia, North Africa, and Western 
Asia, the camel is, and always has been, a fa- 
miliar and useful animal. God has made him able 
to go without food or water for a long time, to 
travel at an easy pace over the hot, loose sand of 
the desert for many miles without feeling tired, 
and to carry on his strong back heavy loads. The 
Arabs call him "the ship of the desert." We read 



ANnrAIS OF THl'. BIBLl',, FOR T.rm.l-. FOLK 



4 7 



in the Bible, rigiit from the lieginning-, of camels. 
We are told that Abraham was rieh in camels. 
When Rebekah came to be the wife of Isaac, she 
rode on a camel. The men who lMjn_i;lit Joseph 
from his cruel brothers took hnn on a camel to 
Eg\'pt. When the (^ueen of Shelia came to see 
the wise King Sohimon, she lironght with her 
camels laden with spices to present to the King. 
And when the wise men followed the star all the 
wav to Bethlehem to see Jesus, the new-born 
King, the\- came riding on camels. The camel 
shows the wisdom of the good Creator, who has 
made him iust to suit the needs of the country 
to v.diich he belongs. 

THE COXY 

The little conies are in many respects, both in 
form and in habits, like hares and rabliits. They 
are rather smaller than ralibits, and are of a dull 
brown color. Their ears are much smaller than 
those of rabbits. It would not be possible to pick 
up a conv by its ears, as children often pick up 
their rabbits. 

Conies are timid little creatures and weak, luit 
thev are very wise ; for, knowing their weakness, 
thev make their homes alwavs in holes in high 
rocks. 

There are three mentions of the cony in the 
Bible. The first is in Leviticus, where the cony 
was forbidden as food. 

Then in P^alni civ. and in Pro\-erlis xxx. w"e 
learn of God's profusion for them, and the wis- 
dom of the conies in making use of that pro- 
vision. 

If a foolish con\- had said, 'T am not going to 
stav hidden up here in the rocks," he woulil siion 
have learned his mistake through pain, and per- 
haps death. 

But thev are too wise to do this. Knowing 
how weak thev are, the}' do not question it, but 
just cover their weakness with God's strength, 
and so are safe and strong. 

THE COW AXD HER CALF 

All over the world the peaceful cow is to be 
found. A\'e can hardly ima.gine how we should 
get on without the milk she gives us. It forms 
part of almost every meal we have, and so full 
of nourishment is it that it is possible for people 
to live entirely on it without an}'thing else. 

The first use of the milk is, of course, to feed 
the baby calves. But God gi^-es the cow ever so 
much more milk than her calves need, so as to 
feed the men, women, and children, who also 
need its nourishment. 



I'hcre are man\' dillerent kinds of cows; some 
of Iheni are larger and some mure beaulifnl than 
others. 

The ox was brought tn .\mcrica soon .after our 
great continent was disco\'ered. It settled ilown 
and did well here, and soon there were many of 
its kind in its new home. 

Idle calf, a daint\- little animal, is able to run 
about almost as smin as it is burn, and no sight 
is prettier than that of cah'es running along by 
their nirithers in the fields. 

C o\vs, or 'd^ine," as thev are generallv called 
there, are mentioned se\'er;Ll times in the Bible. 

In (denesis we read how l-'haraoh had a strange 
dream, all about cows. The whole story is told 
in Genesis xli. 

Another prettv stor\- aliout cows is told us in 
I Sanniel \i. G,od had allowed the Philistines to 
take and keep for a time the hol\" ark to punish 
the Israelites f(]r their sins. But after a time he 
sent a plague among the Philistines, and they 
were frightencl and made haste to send away 
the ark. 

As none wanted to take it into the land of 
Israel, the Philistines thought of this ]dan : 

d hev made a little cart and put the ark in it. 
Then thev took the cah'es awav from two cows 
and harnessed the cows to the cart and let thenr 
go and take it where the\' liked. And the cows, 
under the gui<lance of God, went straight into 
the land of Judah. 

-\s the cows went, some reapers heard them 
lowing for their calves, and, looking up, thev saw 
the strange sight. 

Thev soon spread the good news that the ark 
had C(imc back, and the people rejoiced with 
great jov, and the\' thanked 'jod fcjr having sent 
it back to Israel again. 

Then they took the cows which had drawn the 
cart and offered them as a burnt offering to God. 

DEER 

Most of us, perhaps, have seen tame deer. A\'e 
have watched them feeding in parks, anil have 
been interested in their coy, shy w'a}"S, and the 
timid glances of their soft brown eves. But from 
this we can hardh' picture them as thev are in 
their natural free state, so swift and so graceful, 
"leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the 
hills." The character of the deer is \'erv gentle 
and lo\'ing. Wdien the wi-^e King .'-Solomon wanfcil 
to flescribe a tender and true wife, he said, "Let 
her be as the loving bind and teniler roe" (that 
is, as a male and female deer together). Sonie- 
timcs men hunt the deer, for its flesh, called veni- 
son, is very good for food. Wdien hunted, it runs 



48 



ANIMALS OF THE BIBLE, FOR LITTLE FOLK 



for its life very quickly and for many miles; and, 
if it escapes from the hunter, it becomes, through 
fear and fatigue, very thirsty, and pants for 
water to drink. Once when David was far from 
Jerusalem in the wilderness, he became filled 
with a great longing to be able to go to God's 
temple with the other people to worship and 
praise the Lord. He thought and thought about 
it until he quite panted with longing, and he said, 
"As the hart (deer) panteth after the water- 
brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.'' 
He longed for God and his house just as the 
thirsty, hunted deer panted for water. Nothing 
and none else could satisfy him. There is really 
a thirst in all of us for God. But some people 
think it isn't God they want, but money, or pleas- 
ure, or ease, and so they drink and are still 
thirsty. The Lord Jesus once said, "If any man 
thirst, let him come unto me and drink." He 
meant little children too; and the living water 
that he gives is his Holy Spirit. Let us then go 
to him as the thirsty deer runs to the water- 
brook, and he will quench our thirst and make 
us strong and happy, and satisfied in his love. 

THE ELEPHANT 

Children are always interested in elephants. 
The strong vet gentle giants seem somehow to be 
our friends. 

The elephant is one of the most marvelous of 
God's creatures. It is the biggest of all animals, 
and is most docile and intelligent. 

Just think, for example, of all it can do with 
its trunk ! It is so strong and so pliable that with 
it the elephant can raise heavv weights and swing 
them round on to its back ; and }-et it is so deli- 
cately sensitive that its owner can pick up with 
it a pin or a straw. The elephant can fill its trunk 
with water, and either squirt it on to an enemy 
or pour it down its own throat to quench its 
ihirst. 

There is no mention in the Bible of elephants 
as living in the Holy Land. But we read of 
ivory, which is got from the large tusks or teeth 
that grow on each side of the elephant's trunk. 

When we marvel at the strength and gentle- 
ness and usefulness of the elephant, let us re- 
mind ourselves of how much more wonderful 
must the great God be who created him. 

EOXES 

The fox is a pretty little animal, very nuich like 
a dog with a bushy tail. But his nature is very 
different from that of our faithful, affectionate 
dogs. He is very sly and cunning. It is often 



said, "As cunning as a fox." He is also a terri- 
ble thief, and is fond of robbing the poultry-yard. 
In the Holy Land the foxes are specially fond 
of grapes ; and so, as there are many vineyards, 
they do a great deal of mischief. There is a 
verse in the Song of Solomon that says: 'Take 
us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vines, 
for our vines have tender grapes." You can 
fancy for yourselves some of these mischievous 
little Eoxes breaking into a vineyard where, if 
not caught, they would soon do serious damage. 
What a picture this is of how what we call "little 
sins" steal into our lives and spoil our characters! 
God wants us to bear the fruits of love, patience, 
industry, and truthfulness. But the little foxes 
of anger, impatience, idleness, and deceit are 
always trying to get into our hearts to spoil our 
fruit. We need to be constantly watching and 
praying, so that these little habits and sins may 
not fasten themselves on us and spoil our lives. 

THE GOAT 

The goat is sometimes called "the poor man's 
cow," because it yields very good milk, and costs 
much less than a cow both to buy and to feed. 
There are a great many different kinds of goats. 
Some have handsome, curious horns, some have 
long ears, some have heavy coats of valuable hair 
and wool. The skins of both goats and kids are 
very useful ; goatskins were used to make the 
wineskins and water-bottles of which we so often 
read in the Bible. Goats are daring, independent 
animals, fond of climbing and getting on to 
mountain-peaks. Although under the care of one 
shepherd, the sheep and goats always keep apart 
from each other by night and day. It is never 
necessary to separate them, they separate them- 
selves naturally. It was something like this that 
the Lord Jesus meant when he said that at the 
great day of judgment the wicked would be di- 
vided from the good, just as naturally as the 
sheep are separated from the goats. If we want 
in that day to be on the Judge's right hand, we 
must show now that we are his lambs and sheep 
by listening to the good shepherd's voice and fol- 
lowing him. 

A HEN AND HER CHICKENS 

Such a sight as that of a mother hen with her 
chickens is one we all may have seen many times. 
A'ery likely many of my readers keep fowls in 
their own yards, and they know what fun it is to 
hunt for eggs. Of course, when the hens are 
shut up in a "run" it is easy enough to find the 
eggs ; but when they are allowed to run in an 



ANIMALS OF THE BIBLE, FOR LITTLE FOLK 



49 



orchard, for instance, they lay their eggs in all 
sorts of funn\' liiding-places. 

AX hat a wonderful thing an egg — such as we 
can huy and eat as an ordinary relish — is ! In 
nian\- of them there is the wonderful germ of 
life. In the springtime, when the hens are laving 
a great many eggs, about t\yelye or fifteen will 
he placed in a basket filled with straw. A\'hen 
the hen sees this she is much pleased, and. spread- 
ing out her wings, she sits on the basket and 
keeps the eggs \yarm. After she has sat like this 
for three weeks the shells begin to crack, and the 
proud hen then knows that the chickens inside 
are full-grown and are wanting to get out. Bit 
by bit the opening in the shell gets larger, and 
soon out steps a dear little chick. Doesn't it 
seem iust like a fairv tale? 

Then the hen is at her best. She is a perfect 
mother, she follows her children about, calls them 
to her if thev stray away, and finds food for 
them. If danger of any kind threatens, she gath- 
ers them quickly and hides them all safely under 
her wings. So completely does she hide them, 
that a wdiole brood may be nestling under one 
hen, and not a feather or beak of one chick be 
seen. 

One day the Lord Jesus was thinking sadly 
about the ruin that was soon to come upon Jeru- 
salem. Though God had been so good to the 
Jews, and had giyen them so many blessings, 
they had been constantly wicked and ungrateful 
to him, and now a dreadful punishment was com- 
ing upon them. And as Jesus looked on the beau- 
tiful city so soon to be destroyed, his heart was 
sad with pity and sorrow, and he said: "O Jeru- 
salem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gath- 
ered thv children, even as a hen gathereth her 
chickens under her wings, but ye z^'oitld not!" 

HORSE AND COLT 

Of all the wonderful and beautiful animals to be 
found in the world, there is none more perfect 
than a well-bred horse — so strong and capable, 
and yet so obedient that he will obey even the 
guiding hand of a child. In shape, in movement, 
and in character he is one of the great Creator's 
masterpieces. 

And of all horses the Arabian or "Arab steed" 
is the most perfect, both as to beauty and intel- 
ligence. 

An Arab loves his horse and treats him as his 
friend and comrade. He would rather lose any- 
thing than part with his horse. 

\\'hen an Arab colt is born, it is loved and 
cared for by the whole family of its owner, and 
so it grows up in a little world of love. 



In the Book of Job there is a grand descrip- 
tion of a charger or war-horse. They are the 
words of God himself; they begin with the ques- 
tion to Job. "Hast thou given the horse his 
strength ?" Read it for yourselves in Job xxxix. 
verses 20-25, and you will almost be able to fancy 
you can see the noble charger fearlessly carrying 
his armed rider straight into the thick of the bat- 
tle. -\s you read, and whenever you admire a 
beautiful horse, remember that all his strength 
and beauty is God's handiwork. 

THE LEOPARD 

When you see a picture of a leopard, it may re- 
mind vou of a big, handsome tortoise-shell cat. 
But if you were to meet one it would not be safe 
to stroke his back as we do those of our own 
pussies. 

The leopard is one of the fiercest of all ani- 
mals. He makes his home in the middle of the 
wildest forests, and hunting him is a dilticult and 
dangerous sport. 

He is like a cat in his soft, sly, swift move- 
ments, and in the way he climbs trees. 

His coat is a deep, yellowish-brown color, 
speckled with large dark spots. 

Once the prophet Jeremiah was trying to show 
the people how serious a matter it was to keep 
on doing wrong things, because by this they were 
forming bad habits, and habits help to make the 
character of a person. Jeremiah told the people 
that the habits had become as much a part of 
themselves as the spots on the leopard's back 
were a part of the leopard. 

But, though we cannot break our own chains, 
God can do it for us, and he is willing to help us 
to break off bad habits and form good ones; and 
he is able also to cleanse away the spots of sin 
and make our hearts whiter than snow. 

THE LIOX 

The lion is called "the king of beasts" because of 
his great dignity and power. He holds his beau- 
tiful head well up, and walks with a slow and 
stately tread, and all other animals fear him. The 
lioness is very fond of her mate, and if he is at- 
tacked defends him. She takes the greatest care 
of her babies, or cubs. A new-born cub is about 
the size of a small cat. and it is not able to walk 
till it is two months old. The lion is mentioned 
in the Bible about one hundred and thirty times. 
Sometimes his noble qualities are shown, and 
sometimes those that are cruel. 'W'e are told that 
when Daniel was put in the lions' den, God shut 
the lions' mouths; showing that though the lion 



50 



ANniALS OF THE BIBLE, FOR LITTLE FOLK 



was king of lieasts, God was King of lions. The 
Lord Jesus is called "the Lion of the tribe of 
Judah" ; teaching us that while Judah was Israel's 
ro\-al tribe, Jesus was the King of the lews. 

The devil is called "a roaring lion.'' A\"hen we 
hear his roar and feel tempted to do \vhat is 
wrong, let us remember that the onl_y way to 
overcome him and his temptations is to resist 
them with "the sword of the Spirit, the word of 
God." 

THE OSTRICH 

]\IosT of us have often seen and admired ostrich- 
feathers, but not so manv of us have seen the 
big handsome bird on whose bodv thev grow. 
The chief home of the ostrich is in Central 
Africa. They are verv strong, bi.g creatures. 
They run more quicklv than the swiftest horse. 
One Egyptian king had a team of ostriches to 
draw his chariot. 

These strange birds are noted for their large 
appetites. They can eat anything thev come 
across — even such things as stones, metal, glass, 
etc., without suffering from indigestion. 

They have a curious habit of building their 
nests in the sand. Because of this, people used 
to think the ostrich was a careless mother, but 
this is not really so, for she watches her nest 
carefully, and she hardlv leaves her voung ones 
until they are old enough to take care of them- 
selves. 

In the Book of Job, chapter xxxix, 13, we read 
that one of the questions Elihu asked lob was, 
\\^ho gave wings and feathers to the ostrich? 
He was reminding him of the truth we often 
sing, that — 

"All things bright and beautiful. 
All creatures great and small. 
All things wise and wonderful. 
The good God made them all." 



OXEX 

Cows and bullocks are quite familiar friends to 
us. In the hot summer weather they make a 
pretty picture lying peacefully chewing the cud 
under shady trees, or standing in the cool waters 
of some gently flowing brook. \A'e sometimes 
see them drawing the plow across the brown 
earth to prepare it for the seed. Oxen are used 
for many farm purposes in manv countries. In 
Palestine the Jews and Arabs used them much 
as we should use horses. They drew the plow, 
they trod out the corn, they were harnessed to 
wagons, and they carried burdens. Besides their 
use for work when alive and for food when 
killed, oxen were offered in sacrifice to God, and 



their shed blood was just a type or picture of the 
great sacrifice of Christ, who was to die for the 
sin of the whole world. There are many allu- 
sions to oxen in the Bible. Elisha was p'lowin? 
with a great team of twenty-four oxen in front 
of him when Elijah passed and cast his prophet's 
mantle on him. One of the excuses made by an 
invited guest in our Lord's parable of the Mar- 
riage Least was, "I have bought fiye yoke of 
oxen, and I go to prove them." There is a verse 
in Deuteronomy which shows God's tender care 
for the useful, patient ox. The Lord told Moses 
that when the ox was put to tread out the corn 
his mouth was not to be muzzled, so that while 
he worked he could eat, if hungry. Let us al- 
ways remember this, and try to make the lives of 
dumb animals as easy and happy as we can. You 
know that when oxen are used to draw a plow 
the heads of two are put through a frame made 
of wood, called a }-oke. This keeps them to- 
gether, and makes it easier for them to draw the 
heavy plow. This is what the Lord Jesus meant 
when he said, "Take my yoke upon you. . , . My 
yoke is easy and my burden is light." If we 
yield our hearts and wills to him we shall find 
that duty becomes pleasure, and even hard and 
unpleasant tasks lose all their drudgery. 

THE RAA'EN 

Ravens, crows, magpies, and jackdaws all belong 
to the same family, though, like members of other 
families, they are not exactly alike. 

The raven is a big black bird, with a very harsh, 
unpleasant voice. Black hair is often described 
as "raven-black," and a person suffering from 
hoarseness will say, "I am as hoarse as a raven." 

They are very clever, intelligent birds, and can 
imitate in a wonderful way. But they are very 
cunning and mischievous, and it is as well to be 
on friendly terms with them, for they are very 
spiteful enemies. 

Some people have pet ravens. If taken quite 
young they can be easily tamed and taught all 
kind of things, and they make very amusing pets; 
though it is always wise to keep an eye on them, 
or there is no telling what mischief they will get 
up to. 

In the Bible we find twice special mention 
made of the doings of ravens. One is in Gene- 
sis i., where we read that after the dreadful flood 
of water (which God sent to punish people for 
their sins) had been on the earth for six weeks, 
Xoah one day opened a little window of the ark 
and let a raven fly out. Nothing was then to be 
seen but water. But ravens can keep on flying 
for a long time without getting tired, so Noah's 




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52 



ANIMALS OF THE BIBLE, FOR LITTLE FOLK 



raven just flew to and fro, resting if necessary 
on the ark, until the water was all dried up from 
the earth, and Noah and his family and all' the 
animals and birds also came out upon dry land. 

The other raven story is told us in i Kings 
xvii. The Lord was going to send a famine upon 
the land (this meant that there would be very 
little food' for man or beast), because his people 
kept doing what was wrong. But he did not want 
his faithful servant Elijah to suffer; and so he 
told him to go and stay by a brook so that he 
might have water to drink, and he would provide 
him with food. 

So the prophet trusted God, and he went to the 
brook of which the Lord had told him, and waited 
for the promised food. And the little messengers 
who brought him his breakfast and supper every 
day were just some of these clever black ravens 
of which we have been thinking. 

So we see that the birds recognize God as their 
Lord and do his will. 

SHEEP 

Sheep are interesting for what they give us 
rather than for what they are. They are among 
the silliest of all animals, so very different from 
dogs and horses, for instance. 

If we watch a flock of sheep, we can easily see 
how they seem to have no minds of their own, 
but each one follows the rest. They need to be 
very carefully looked after, because they don't 
know how to take care of themselves. If they 
get into danger, they seem to have no wits to 
guide them out of it again. This is why it is so 
important to place them under the care of a wise 
and kind shepherd. 

The whole of a sheep is useful and valuable. 

\Ye know how much is done with its thick, soft 
wool ; how it is cut off and washed and woven 
into warm garments and blankets. 

And we know, too, how useful its flesh is as 
mutton. Indeed, I don't know how we should get 
on without the useful sheep. 

Those found in different countries differ from 
each other in appearance. I have seen some from 
Africa with mixed brown and white wool, and 
such long, thick tails, very unlike our white short- 
tailed sheep. In Syria, the land of the Bible, the 
sheep are ver}' like the African ones. We are 
told that their long thick tails sometimes weigh 
from ten to fifteen pounds. 

Over and over again we read in the Bible of 
sheep, how they were to be offered as sacrifice 
to God, and were to be eaten as food by men. 

Then we read of many people who kept sheep 
—Jacob, Joseph, David, and many others. Even 



when David became king he never forgot the 
days when he watched the sheep on the hillsides 
of Bethlehem and the lessons he learned then. 
We all know the beautiful psalm he composed 
beginning, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not 
want." 

David saw things around him with two pairs 
of eyes: the eyes of his body and the eyes of his 
spirit. So while with one pair he watched his 
sheep, with the other pair he saw that he was 
one of the Lord's sheep, and that under the care 
of his good shepherd he was quite safe and happy. 

We all possess these two pairs of eyes, but 
with many of us our spirit-eyes need to be opened. 
Let us pray "Open thou mine eyes," and then, 
when we see sheep, we, like David, shall remem- 
ber that we have a good shepherd who even laid 
down his life for his sheep, and we shall rejoice 
to follow and obey him. 

TURTLE-DOVES 

All doves and pigeons belong to the same family. 
Children who keep them become quite wise in 
telling one variety from another, but to most of 
us they all look very much alike, at any rate in 
form. In our English Bible they are called 
doves. 

The turtle-doves of Palestine can never be 
tamed. If put into a cage, they at once begin to 
droop and pine. But if set at liberty, they fly 
swiftly back to their home in the clefts of the 
rocks. Once, when David was surrounded by 
enemies and was in great distress, he envied these 
homing doves, and said : "Oh that I had wings as 
a dove, for then would I fly away and be at rest!" 

We remember, too, when the mother of Jesus 
took the holy babe in her arms and went up to 
the temple to present him to the Lord, she took, 
as was the custom when the offerer was a poor 
woman, "a pair of turtle-doves" as a sacrifice. 

But the greatest honor ever given to this gen- 
tle, loving, and beautiful bird was when the Holy 
Spirit chose the form of a dove when he came 
from heaven on the occasion of the Saviour's 
baptism, and rested upon his head. This is why 
in our hymns we sing of the Holy Spirit as the 
"Heavenly Dove." 

THE WILD BOAR 

This rather handsome though pig-like animal 
does belong to the pig family, but is very differ- 
ent in nature and habits from those that grunt 
contentedly in our pigsties, and whose flesh sup- 
plies us with pork and bacon. 

The bodies of wild boars are covered with stiff 



ANIMALS OF THE BIBLE, EOR LITTLE EOLK 



53 



hairs called bristles. The>' have long snouts or 
noses, \^■hich tlie\' find useful for other purposes 
besides that of smelhng. The\' use them as 
spades with which to dig holes in the ground, and 
with them they burrow down very deep into the 
earth in search of worms and grubs, which the\- 
eat. 

Wild boars are not fond of cities; tliey prefer 
to roaiti in big, dense forests, and are plentiful in 
many countries wdiere such forests are to be 
found. 

They are terribl}' destructive if they happen to 
choose a cultivated field in their search for food. 
With their snouts the\- will root it all up in a 
single night. They go in a straight line right 
across the field, and the width of the burrowed 
path is just the width of the boar's head, so that 
if a hoar-hunter conies across one of these tracks, 
he can tell just how big the boar is that has maile 
it. 

The Psalmist was reminded of this habit of 
the hoar wdien he looked upon the troubles that 
had come upon his fellow-coimtrvmen, the Jews. 
(See Psalm Ixxx. 13.) He likened Israel to a 
beautiful vine that God had transplanted from 
Egypt to Canaan. Under his fostering care it 
had grown and flourished and spread until all the 
hills had been covered with vineyards, which had 
sprung from the central vine. But now all was 
changed. The beauty of the vine had vanished, 
and the wild boar out of the forest was tearing 
up its roots. Then the. Psalmist praved that the 
great owner of the vinevard would visit his vine- 
yard, drive away the destructive boars, and re- 
store the dying vine. 

If he is captured when very 3'oung, the boar 
can be easily tamed. He becomes then warmly 
attached to his owner, and responrls to his kind- 
ness with real affection. 

Although, like their homely relations the pigs, 
they are fond of rolling in the mud, boars are 
really particular about their personal cleanliness, 
and they alwa)"S take a bath in a brook or stream 
before going to their lairs for rest. 

THE WOLF 

The thought of a wolf always brings with it a 
shiver of fear. People who live in or travel 



through coiuitries wdiere wolves abound, tell tales 
of peril which, while tlie\- fascinate us, make us 
feel thankful if our home is in a land where a 
wolf's howl is nc\er heard. 

.\t first sight the woli is so like his relative 
the dog, which is our lo\-ed and trusted friend 
and companion, that we can hardl\' bclie\'e he 
deser\-es the bad name he has. But the wolf is 
unlike the faithful dog in evcr\-thing but his 
shape. In character lie is craft\', greedy, and 
cruel. The old story of "Little Red Riding 
Hood," that every child knows, shows the wolf 
in his true character, iiretending to be good and 
kind, but all the time waiting his chance to do a 
cruel thing. 

Wolves are most dangerous and fierce in cold 
countries, when unable through frost and cold to 
get food, 

^lany times in the Bible, both in the Old and 
Xew I'estaiiients, are wolves mentioned, but al- 
most ahva\s it is as a picture to describe the 
ways and characters of cruel, crafty people. 

The wolf looks upon sheep as its special prey, 
and woe betide the flock if it has a careless shep- 
herd when a wolf steals into the folil ! Once the 
Lord lesus was describing the loving care which 
he, as the good shepherd, took of his sheep, and 
he compared the unfaithful priests to the hire- 
lings who did not own and therefore did not care 
for the sheep, but let the wriKes of sin and error 
steal into the fold and destroy the flock. 

How different from the way our good shepherd 
acted ! He not only faced the wolves, but he laid 
down his life for his sheep. 

There is a lieautiful verse in Isaiah xi. 6, which 
paints us a wonderful picture of the good time 
coming, wdien all sin and suffering shall come to 
an end. when all quarrels shall cease, and love 
shall fill all hearts and rule all lives, because the 
Lord Jesus is the crowned King of the w"orld, 
and Satan's reign is over. 

This is how the prophet describeil that happy 
time: "The wolf shall dwell (that means shall 
live happily in peace and love) wdth the lamb, 
and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and 
the calf and the young lion and the fatling to- 
gether, and a little child shall lead them." And 
all that blessed peace to be because "the earth 
shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord." 




THE HOMELAND OF JESUS 

CHILD LIFE AND MANNERS AND CUSTOMS 
IN THE HOLY LAND TO-DAY 

C?3 



LIFE AND SCENES IN PALESTINE 
TO-DAY 

It is daybreak, the seventh we have seen on the 
Mediterranean since we left Marseilles on our 
way eastward. We can just make out, in the daz- 
zling glory of the sun's ra_\-s, the faint outhne of 
the countr)' we have come to see. 

It is a little country, no bigger than the State 
of New Hampshire, but there is much to see in 
it, so long is its storw thousands of years long, 
so full is its story, full of the most wonderful 
things that have ever happened in the world. 
Countless numbers of people have made their way 
across land and sea to ^■isit this country, and 
manv of them know more about it than about 
their native lands; for the names of its moun- 
tains, of its rivers and lakes, of its cities and vil- 
lages, nav, of its verv caves and pools and rocks, 
have been household words in the mouths of mil- 
lions through the centuries, 

Wdiv this world-wide interest? What do we 
all come to see? It is not on account of scenery, 
though there is much that is glorious. It is not 
by any means chiefly on account of the absorbing 
interest of the verv far past, though it is fine in- 
deed to pass o\'er the most ancient roads in the 
world, to see the home of the greatest sailors and 
traders of old times, to read the records of the 
journey's to and fro of mighty kings and their 
armies from either side of the little country of 
Palestine. 

It is the magic of its name as the Holy Land 
that has drawn, and still draws, thousands and 
tens iif thousands of pilgrims to visit it. Pales- 
tine is a hnl\- land to the Jews, for in it is the site 
of the temple, .and the scenes of the (.)ld Testa- 
ment stories lie scattered over its surface. Idiere 
are the "s-allcxs and fields where .Vbraham pitched 
his tents, there are the tombs where the great 
ones of Israel were liuried, there is the moun- 
tain-top from which ■Moses saw the Promised 
Land he might not enter, and here are the green 
pastures and still waters where David led his flock. 



Palestine is a holy land to the followers of 
Mohammed, for they too reverence the heroes of 
Old Testament history. And their Caliph Omar, 
the second in succession to Mohammed, is asso- 
ciated with great and magnificent buildings on 
the site of the Jewish temple, second only to 
Mecca in sacredness. 

To Christians Palestine is a holv land because 
our JMaster passed the thirty-three vears of his 
life on earth within its borders. 

Our landing-place is Jaffa, and here we get our 
first view of an Eastern town. Such a confusion 
of strange-looking faces and costumes! Camels 
striding along the streets ; numbers of donkeys 
and their boys ; mean-looking houses, much dirt, 
and many beggars — all this passes before our 
eyes as we make for the railway station, crossing 
one of the most ancient roads in the world, by 
the sea-plain, leading from the Nile to the upper 
part of the Euphrates. 

We have a three-hours' journey before us, 
though the distance is less than fiftv miles. First 
through orange and lemon groves, then across a 
plain famous through the ages for the beauty of 
its wild flowers, then winding among low hills, 
past shepherd-bovs with their sheep and goats, 
past mud villages set in fields of yellow, brown, 
and green. The train begins to mount as the 
trains do up the heights of Switzerland, and from 
the open platform we enjoy the growing grandeur 
of the view, backward over the Mediterranean, 
forward to the heights above, as we climb to the 
great central ridge that forms the heart of Pah 
estine. 

Soon our train runs into the terminus, and amid 
the bustle of ])orters and luggage; and finding a 
carriage to take us to our hotel, we look up and 
read on the station wall JERUSALEM. Surely 
we are in a dream, thus to approach a place that 
so far has belonged to the hymns we sing, to the 
Bible stories we love, to the visions of heavenly 
joy. But no, we are actually here, in sight of the 
walls, the gates, the towers, and buildings. It is 
indeed bewildering at first— such steep, narrow 



THE HOMELAND OF TKSUS 



5 5 



streets, sometimes mere tliglits of steps. And 
what a motlc\' crowd ! Monks in lilack or white 
habits, sisters of mercy, black watchmen, Arabs 
in striped clothinj;-, veiled ladies, visitors and pib 
grims from all o\'er Enrope and .\sia, all pass in 
rapid snccession. And here are the loaded camels 
again, iingling their bells as the>' plod by, and 
donkeys with \-elling boys everywhere. 

^\'e start our pilgrimage in the Christian quar- 
ter, being anxious to see at once the famous mass 
of buildings raised over «bat are supposed to be 
the spots where Tesus sulTered and was buried, 
now called the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. 
\A'e can never forget the moment nf entering: we 
seem to leave our ever\'dav beings outside as we 
pass the ^Mohammedan guardian of the peace, 
into a dim, m\'Sterious darkness, cloudy with in- 
cense, and pierced with a multitude of glowing 
lamps. ,-\s we go through the various churches 
and chapels belonging to the Greek, Latin, .Ar- 
menian, and Coptic churches, we hear a constant 
hum of pravers and litanies, drowned from time 
to time bv the rolling of an organ, the clash of a 
cvmbal. A\'e grow quite dazed as we are taken 
from site to site, and are told that here our 
Saviour was crowned with thorns, here he was 
nailed to the cross. 

There he was buried. How can there be so 
much certainty about it, we reflect. Helena's 
chair and chapel remiml us of the dream of the 
Empress, bv which she is said to have been 
guided to find the true cross on this spot. That 
was three centuries after Christ's death and the 
awful destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans 
some years later, and during those centuries 
neither Tew nor Christian came to this place, and 
men's memories grew dim about the exact posi- 
tion of the spots where Jesus suffered. Helena's 
beautiful church was destroyed by the Persians, 
and many Avere the buildings and additions, many 
were the fires, many were the fierce fights raging 
round, through the crusading times and onward. 

We feel it a welcome relief to pass out to the 
open air from the crowded buildings, churches, 
convents, galleries, altars, rival sects, and to make 
our wav bv the Damascus Gate to a remarkably 
shaped mound, with bare limestone cliffs. It can 
indeed be seen from "afar off," and there must 
have been many "passers-by" near this little Hill 
of Execution, where two ancient main roads 
cross. 

Not far from this spot, which many believe to 
be the true Calvary, is a quiet garden, lately 
cleared from rubbish and set in order. With 
deep interest wc look at the tombs in the garden, 
especially at one that answers to one described in 
the Gospels. We feel that it is this mound, this 



garden tomli, we shall bear in mind when we are 
,at hiimc again singing of the "green bill far 
awa\-, without a cit\- wall" rather than the far- 
famed, mucbTougbt-for sites revealed bv the 
dream of blelena, which are now under the build- 
ings of the Church of the Holy .Sepulcher. 

Xext day conies our \'isit to Rethleheni. It is 
an easy drive, five miles to the south of Jerusa- 
lem. The Field of the Shepherds attracts us first; 
we only \\ish that we could ha\-c Ix-en in it at 
night, under the brilliant starlit sk)-. As it is, we 
enjoy the sunshine on the fields where Ruth 
gleaned after the reapers of Pjoaz, on the shining 
white buildings of the little cit\' standing out 
against the blue sky, on the broad plain stretching 
to the Dead Sea, with the purple mountains of 
!Moab gleaming in the distance. 

Foremost among the sights of Bethlehem 
stands out the large and simple Church of the 
Nativity, whose building was begun about 1600 
years ago over the spot where Christ was born. 

The little inn in which Hilary ami loseph sought 
shelter was on the old caravan route, and no 
doubt the stable to which the\' were turned was 
in a rocky cave close by, as man\- inn stables are 
seen to-day. The rockv cave-stalde said to be 
the one is now a shrine lined with marble, lit by 
lamps burning night and dav, supplied bv the dif- 
ferent churches that have shares in the various 
parts of the building. We stoop to read the in- 
scription round the silver star on tlie floor: "Here 
Jesus Christ was born of the \'irgin Mary." 

Turkish soldiers keep guard, as in Jerusalem, 
to prevent the followers of the Prince rif Peace 
flying at each others' throats over a few inches 
of a wall or altar ! It has been said that more 
than once the question of the opening or shutting 
of a door in the churches and con\'ents that have 
clustered round the ancient church has well-nigh 
in\'olved Europe in war. 

Our next pilgrimage takes us farther afield 
from Jerusalem, two da}'s' traveling in a car- 
riage, some of it over very rough roads. W^e 
start early, out by the Damascus Gate, winding 
past the Garden Tomb, across the brook Kcdron, 
past the Garden of Gcthsemane to the slopes of 
Olivet. Jerusalem looks lovelv in the morning 
sun, over the steep valley dotted with lewish 
graves. Aliove the striking cit\' walls we see the 
greenish luster of the wonderful dome liuilt over 
the temple site, and the towers and spires all 
crowded against the skv. Bethany is close at 
hand in a hollow. The supposed sites of the tomb 
of Lazarus and the home of I\Tarv anrl Martha 
are shown in the village, but we are content to 
stand on the edge of the hollow, and imagine our- 
selves gazing with Mary down the mountain, 



56 



THE HOMELAND OF JESUS 



watching and longing for lier great friend in lier 
sore trouble. The view onward is fine, in the 
clear, bright air ; was it here that the words were 
spoken, "I am the resurrection and the life," the 
words still echoing down the years to comfort 
those who have lost their dear ones? 

And now we go down, down, down to the Jor- 
dan valley, by zigzag roads as in Swiss mountain 
passes, it is a steep drop from the heights of 
Jerusalem, and we get many views of the won- 
derful deep valley in which the Jordan winds on 
its way from the' Sea of Galilee to the Dead Sea. 
The distance between the seas, as the crow flies, 
is only seventy miles, but so great are the wmd- 
ings of the Jordan that its course is nearly three 
times as long. There is a beautiful harmony 
between the green of the willows and rushes, that 
border the river, and the blue of the calm Dead 
Sea. It is a hot, rough journey as we near the 
sea, over a mere track among little mounds of 
mud, and low scrubby bushes that serve as food 
for camels. 

Greatly do we enjoy a rest on the pebbly beach, 
and still more a bath in the far-famed salt water, 
seven times Salter than the ocean. This saltness 
is realized when we get a drop in our eyes or 
mouth. We feel ourselves so light in the Dead 
Sea that we simply stand upright when out of 
our depth and tread water. We find it best to 
swim on our backs, as it is not easy to keep our 
arms and legs under water. 

Invigorating as it is, we are glad of a dip later 
in the fresh water of the Jordan to wash off the 
salt that has dried on our skin. \\'e lunch under 
the green trees by the river, and listen to the 
stories of our guide about the thousands of pil- 
grims, chiefly Russians, who come to bathe in the 
waters of Jordan, the river crossed by the chil- 
dren of Israel on their way to the Promised 
Land; the river in which John baptized his Mas- 
ter. We seem to see the happy, merry folk, so 
simple and kindly, so enthusiastic about all they 
see and hear. They carry away the garments, wet 
with Jordan water, and keep them to be buried 
in, for this pilgrimage is the event of their lives. 

We spend the night at Jericho, the lowest in- 
habited spot in the world. Nearly all the course 
of the Jordan is below the level of the sea : the 
surface of the Dead Sea is nearly 1300 feet below 
the level of the Mediterranean. The Old Testa- 
ment Jericho, so wonderfully besieged and taken, 
and the New Testament Jericho, where blind 
Bartimaeus begged, and Zacchreus collected taxes, 
are both marked now by rubbish-heaps and ruins. 
It is on the site of the Jericho of crusading times 
that the modern village stands, surrounded by 
gardens and groves of fruit-trees. 



It is a long climb back to Jerusalem. The pil- 
grims do it on foot; so did the multitudes wlio 
went out to hear and see the Baptist by the Jor- 
dan. 

Before starting for Nazareth and the Sea of 
Galilee, we must visit the southeast part of Jeru- 
salem, where the famous temple of Solomon 
stood. The site is now covered by magnificent 
jMohammedan buildings and courts. Some think 
that the rock on its highest point, which is cov- 
ered by the Dome of the Rock, was the Altar of 
Burnt Offering. We are amazed at the magnifi- 
cence in form and decoration of this shrine to 
enter which we take off our shoes. Such blue 
Persian tiles and mosaic glass; such beautiful 
arches and pillars and soft carpets ! The El-Aksa 
Mosque — El-Aksa means "the most distant"— the 
farthest sacred shrine from Mecca, stands about 
500 feet away from the Dome of the Rock. It 
was first a Christian cathedral, but was changed 
by Omar into a mosque. We linger as long as we 
can over the view from the walls, and the endless 
points of interest and beauty which it contains. 

Our last sight in Jerusalem has a haunting sad- 
ness. Thousands of Jews are gathering now in 
the country that once belonged to their fore- 
fathers, which they still love with a passionate 
patriotism. On certain days a most affecting ser- 
vice is held beside a part of the wall surrounding 
the temple enclosure, a part believed to date from 
Solomon's time. With faces pressed against the 
huge stones, the Jews bewail the lost glories of 
their temple and country, and pray and read the 
Hebrew Scriptures with the tears streaming 
down their faces. 

And now begins the most adventurous part of 
our journey. We might do it easily by taking 
train from Jerusalem back to Jaffa, thence fifty 
miles northward by steamer to Haifa, and then 
by carriage to Nazareth. But for many reasons 
— chief est that we want to live in the great past, 
see the views that Jesus saw, see the peasants as 
he saw them— we decide to take the land journey 
by carriage to Nablus, and then to Nazareth on 
horseback. 

It is a wonderful farewell view we get of Jeru- 
salem as we mount the hill to the north and look 
back at the panorama ; and then all day long we 
pass over rough hills and beautiful valleys, over 
rocky passes with bright streams, over fertile 
fields. With bewildering rapidity we leave be- 
hind us sites connected with David, Samuel, Eh, 
Joshua and his followers. We sleep at Nablus, 
the old city of Shechem, the first city (Sichein) 
mentioned in the Bible. Here live the remnant- 
only some two hundred poor folk— of the oM 
Samaritans, and in their interesting syna 



THE HOMELAND OF TESUS 



we see the famous and ancient roll of the books 
of Moses and Joshua. 

The \'ale of Shechcm is grandlN' walled in li\" 
two mountains, one ilr\- and bare, with masses of 
prickly pear, the other, at its base, clothed with 
lovely flowers and shrubs, and gztx with leaping- 
brooks. We turn aside to see lacoli's Well, 
where Christ, weary with the heat, sat and rested 
and talked with the woman of Samaria. It is 
hard riding next dav, but our Arab steeds bring 
us safely • through, with guides and attendant 
horsemen to look after us. 

The kings of Israel did indeed find a grand site 
for their new capital, towering on its Itmelv hill, 
rising from broad and fertile plains. We take in 
as much as we can of the position of Ahab's ivorv 
palace, of the ruins of the grand colonnade, of the 
magnificent views all round. What wild and stir- 
ring scenes once raged where now sad ruin and 
desolation brood over the Hill of Samaria ! Pres- 
ently our way takes us across the \'ale of Dothan, 
and as we go we live again in the familiar story 
of Joseph, and watch the dreamer coming over 
the fields to his brothers. We shudder at their 
treatment of the bo)' as we look into the old 
rock-cut, bottle-shaped cisterns, into one of wdiich 
he may have been let down ; anil in that cloud of 
dust out yonder we almost fancy we can see the 
caravan of Ishmaelites to wdiom he was sold, 
traveling on the ancient highway we are crossing. 
It is still a principal trade route between the Eu- 
phrates and Egypt. 

As we cross the pilain of Esdraelon we realize 
that \\t are in the very heart of a great battle- 
field where men have stri\-en with each other 
from the times of Sisera to those of Xapoleon. 

As the eventful day closes, the last ridge is 
crossed and we are at Xazareth. 

Xext da\- we spend some happy hours among 
the rocky fields around, picking the "lilies of the 
field," \yatching the birds, and the boys tending 
sheep and goats. Things change here so little 
through the centuries that we have little difficulty 
in seeing them as they were 2000 years ago. Here 
are women grinding at the mill, travelers in flow- 
ing garments, with scrip and staff, oxen plowing, 
people living on the housetops, men carrying 
water in bottles made of the skins of animals. Our 
chief interest in Xazareth is to watch the mothers 
and children at the well, now called the Wrgin's 
Well, in memory of the da_\-s wdien Mary came to 
it with her pitcher, holding her little Son by the 
hand. 

Xext day the carriage takes us on past Cana 
and the Hill of Blessings, and then at last we 
look down on the blue and sparkling Sea of Gali- 
lee, ringed round with green hills. We greatly 



enjoy a sail on the lake, seeing (he spot where 
the lordan enters strong and full inln it, and 
niitiug iin its shores the ruins nl llie nbl towns 
with fannliar names that were dulled abi)Ut it in 
the time nf Christ. Ships and boats were busy 
then I in its waters, pK'iiig from one to the other; 
the fishermen, too, had good markets for their 
abundant hauls of fish. In the early morning, 
next day, we cross it again from Tiberias, and 
amid the quiet ripple of the little waves we think 
of the scenes on its shores, of the storms, of the 
words borne across the water, "It is I, be not 
afraid." 

From Semakh \ve take the train to Damascus, 
a journey of a few hours. .Such waried scenery 
we pass, picturesr|ue river-valleys, pools of hot 
sulphur, bare plains doited with the mounds of 
buried cities, and fine views from time to time 
of the snowy giant Blount Hermon, wdience 
springs the Jordan. The last part of the way is 
over the Damascus-]\[ecca Railway, by which 
thousands of pilgrims now travel toward the 
birthplace of }iIohammed. The buildings of the 
cit}-, of a pearly gray color, surroimded by thou- 
sands of the greenest trees, have gained for it the 
name of the "pearl set in emeralds." It is also 
called the Immortal Cil\', the oldest city in the 
world, for Damascus was full of people, thriving 
and beautiful, long ages liefore Rome was born. 

We feel we would like many weeks, instead of 
da}-s, in which to wander by the two rivers that 
"make" the fertile site of Damascus. In the ba- 
zaars we are delighted with things old and new 
which show the skill of the people from early 
days in metal and leather work and in beautiful 
damask linen and hangings. 

But we must tear ourselves awav to visit the 
Great ]\Iosque, for about it hangs the story of 
the lovel)' city from the days when X'aaman, the 
.Syrian captain, gained permission to bow himself 
in the House of Rimmon, and onward through 
Roman and Christian times. 

It is but a short journey liy train to visit the 
grand ruins of the Temple of the Sun and of 
Bacchus, and the stupendous cjuarries of stone at 
Baalbek, in the plain between the two Lebanon 
ranges. Columns are still standing 90 feet high, 
immense flights of steps are still to be seen, and 
remains of huge terraces and walls. 

By the old road that leads from Baalbek to the 
cedars of Lebanon, the traA'eler has to climb a 
pass 8000 feet above the level of the sea, whence 
the view is superb, over snowy peaks, over moun- 
tain streams and valleys, far away to the Medi- 
terranean on the one side and to the desolate dis- 
tant ridges on the other. The cedars, grand and 
dreary as they are, some of them perhaps 2000 or 



58 



THE HOMELAND OF JESUS 



3000 )-ears old, are but a remnant of the forests 
so famous in the days of Solomon. 

But we have to take the train from Baalbek to 
the port of Beirut, across the Lebanon range, and 
a most beautiful journey it is. The highest point 
is nearly 5000 feet abo\'e the sea, and the railway 
descends in zigzags through pine-forests. As we 
look out from the train, we think we have seen 
nothing more beautiful in all our tour than the 
views over the Mediterranean in the afternoon 
sun. 

We approached the Holy I.^and in the golden 
haze of sunrise ; we leave it in shadow as we face 
the setting sun. 

IX A PEASANT HOME OF THE 
HOLY LAND 

The house of a peasant in the Holv Land is a 
very simple affair. As a rule it consists of one 
large room, part of which is occupied by the 
family, and part bv the animals which thev own. 
The materials of which the house is built depend 
upon the neighborhood. In the hills there is 
plenty of stone, and in the plains there is plenty 
of earth ; so in the one case the walls are of stone, 
in the other of mud. 

The peasant of the plains can also obtain tim- 
ber as well as earth, so that when he has raised 
his low red walls, he lays long beams across from 
wall to wall and forms a flat roof. Upon the 
beams earth is again spread thickly and trodden 
hard. In the springtime a crop of rich grass will 
rise upon these earthen roofs, and the goats soon 
find their way up, and pasture at ease on the 
housetop. 

The peasant of the hills finds I)uilding a nmch 
more difficult affair. Stone is heavier and slower to 
build with than mud, and he has to make his walls 
ver}' stout and strong on account of his roof. On 
the bare and steiile mountains he would search 
for timber in vain, and for the roof he must use 
the stone which lies to his hand in such abun- 
dance. So when the four walls are built, the 
structure is finished with a dome-shaped roof of 
stone. Such a roof throws great strain on the 
walls, and the latter are made three or four feet 
thick to withstand the pressure. 

It is best to build such a roof quickly, in order 
that the stones may lock together and set firmly 
in a short time. So that when the builder has 
formed a framework on which the dome is to be 
laid, all his friends come to his aid, carrying up 
stones and mortar to the masons, who lav the 
dome with great speed. In this way a large roof 
is often luiilt in a few hours. After about a 
week the framework is removed, and it is found 



that the dome has settled into its place with its 
stones bound together in the most solid fashion. 

The day when a roof is built always closes with 
a great merrymaking. This is the return which 
the owner makes for the help of his neighbors: 
in the evening he provides them with a feast, and 
this break in the monotony of village life is 
greatly enjoyed. The feasters laugh, sing, shout, 
and clap their hands, and the village is filled with 
the merriest uproar. 

The raising of the dome does not complete the 
house, for the finished roof, like that of all Eas- 
tern houses, is always flat. The walls are again 
carried up above the dome, and the latter is cov- 
ered with earth and rubble trodden or beaten 
hard, and the whole made flush with the walls, 
giving the usual flat roof. 

The inside of this peasant home, then, consists 
of one large room, but of this room about three- 
Cjuarters of the space is raised and reached by one 
or more steps. This portion is called the musta- 
beh, and here the family live, while in the lower 
portion are stabled the horse, the cow, the don- 
key, and the goats. 

At one side of the mustabch is a hearth, and 
sometimes there is a chimney, but 'not always, 
and then the smoke has to find its way out at the 
door. There may be a small opening or window 
high up in the wall to form another vent, but this 
is not always found. In the more unsafe parts of 
the country such a window would afford oppor- 
tunity for an enem"\' to fire into the room, so the 
only opening is the doorway, which can be 
strongly barricaded by a door formed of heavy 
planks. 

The furnishing of the mustabeh is a very easy 
business, for, in our sense of the word, there is 
no furnishing at all. The peasant's home does 
not contain a single chair, table, bench, or bed- 
stead; it contains some jars, some pots and pans, 
some cooking utensils, some bins for storing sup- 
plies, and that is all, save the bedding and a few 
mats. The mats are made of grass or rushes, and 
are spread upon the floor for the people to sit on; 
of the bedding there is no sign by day. But when 
night comes the housewife goes to a recess 
formed in the wall, and drags out a mattress 
three or four inches thick, filled with wool or 
rags. She lays this on the floor, and then fetches 
from the same recess two or three thick wadded 
quilts and some pillows stuffed with straw. This 
is the whole provision for sleeping, and it is 
rolled up and put away again in the morning. 

In a row at one end of the mustabeh are the 
bins, made of clay, in which the peasant stores his 
supplies of wheat, dried figs, lentils, and other 
products of his land. The bins are large, for they 



THE HOMELAND OF JESUS 



59 



are meant to liokl the harvest of the \ear. ami 
thev are made b\' the women, W'licn the \\'onien 
need a new bin, they seek some Ixxl of tongli ela\' 
and dig up a quantity. The elav is tlioroughlN- 
broken up and soaked with \\'alor, and then 
crushed straw is \\'eU worked into it with tlie 
hands. The ckiv and straw form a \-er\' tenacious 
mass, and with this material the wheat-bin is 
built. 

Only a small portion is built up each day, the 
new part being" allowed to set firnd\- on the old 
before more is added. If the work went on too 
fast, the upper part would become too hea\'\" fur 
the soft lower part and would break away. We 
see exaetl\' the same method followed bv the swal- 
low, wdio builds her nest of mud against our 
eayes. and lets one l;i\'er liecome hard and tirm 
before she adds the next. 

When the bin is finished it is left in the power- 
ful S\Tian sun to liake hard, and is then carried 
into the house. Xear the liottom of the bin a 
small hole is left, from wdiich the contents are 
drawn as needed. In some parts of the Holy 
Land very large bins are built in the house itself. 
A framework of posts and reeds is set up, and 
this framework is then plastered w"ith mud or 
clav. Such a bin will hold a great amount of 
grain, and it is thought that these bins were the 
"barns" spi.iken of in the Bible, for the Ijarn, as 
we see it in our country, is not known in the 
Holy Land. 

After the bins the most important articles are 
the jars in which water, oil, and honey are stored. 
The oil is pressed from the oliye, and is used 
largely in cooking food. Then come the ^yooden 
bowls in wdiich bread is mixed ami meals are 
served, wicker baskets in which all kinds of 
things are carried, and finall\- the mill in wdiich 
corn is ground. 

The mill ought, perhaps, to have come first, not 
last, for it is the one thing which cannot be 
spared out of the house. W'ithout it bread could 
not be made, and people would star\-e, and its 
importance is recognized in the Old Testament 
law, which forbade a creditor to take a millstone 
in pledge. 

Sometimes on the roof nf the house a little 
upper room is built. In the great heat of sununer 
the family sleep in it, for it is cooler than the 
room below. Occasionally it has no roof, only 
four walls and a trellis of bjoughs overhead, on 
which a vine is trained. These rooms are usually 
reached from the ground by a staircase outsifle 
the house. Such a chamber as this was that made 
by the Shunamite woman f(jr Elisha, "a little 
chamber on the wall," anrl the outer staircase 
allowed him to come and go privately. 



The roof-t(ip sees almost as nuich (jf the people 
of the house as tlu' mustabeh itself. The flat roof 
serves as a storehouse, where many things are 
piled out of reach of lighldlngered neighbors. 
Idiere are stacked the fagots of brushwood 
which the wiimen and girls have dragged home 
willi much labor; there grain is spread out to dry, 
and oli\es to ripen; there the family sit in the 
ciiid of the e\'euiiig when the day's work is done, 
the f.ather snujking his long pipe, and the chil- 
dren running from side to side, to see "what is 
giiiug on in the narrow lanes of the village. 

If there is no gond well in the neighborhood 
each house is provided with its cistern, in wdiich 
rain-water is collected and stored. A cistern is 
formed b)- digging a large hole in the ground and 
building a strong wall round the foot of the hole. 
(_)n the wall a dome-shaped roof is erected, wdth 
a hole left in the top. This hole is to admit 
water, and it is large enou.gh for a man's body to 
pass through, thus enabling the owner to descend 
from time to time to clean out the cistern. The 
earth is filled in over the dome, so that all looks 
as level as before the hole was dug. The inside 
of the cistern is lined thickh- with mortar and 
finished with a coating of a special kind of jilas- 
ler, which sets extremeh' hard, and Ijecomes in 
time perfecth- water-tight. 

The cistern and its contents form a very pre- 
cious possession in this land of intense heat and 
drought. \i a long time passes without rain, and 
the water in the cisterns falls low, there comes a 
period of .i;;"reat scarcit)'. Those wdiose water has 
run out creep by night to steal from the cisterns 
that still hold a little, and the owmers of the latter 
have to watch their store. One method of guard- 
ing against these water-thieves is for the owner 
to spread his bed on the stone which closes the 
mouth of the well and sleep there: then he knows 
that his precious water is safe. 

H a village is so lucky as to possess a good 
spring of water, the women may be seen going at 
nifirning ami e\'ening with their water-jars or 
their water-skins to bring home the amount re- 
quired. If they carry water-jars, these are bal- 
anced on their heads both .going and returning; 
if water-skins, the latter arc slung on their backs 
b\- a strap passing over the forehead. 

In the morning, wdien water has been fetched, 
the \'illage begins to resound with the hum of the 
hanflmills grinding the corn into flour, ami this 
hum has never been silent for ages. Thousands 
of years ago the S\Tian peasant woman ground 
her corn just as it is ground to-da\'. The Rible 
has many references to this grinding of the flour 
for the dail\- lire:id, .-iiid it is the handniill whicli 
is spoken of every time. 



60 



THE HOMELAND OF JFSUS 



The mill is formed of two flat round stones, 
about eighteen inches across, the upper and the 
nether millstones. In the lower stone an iron pin 
is fixed in the center, and tiie upper stone has a 
hole drilled through it, so that it may be slipped 
on this pin. Near the edge of the upper stone is 
fixed a wooden handle by which it may be turned 
round. 

The woman working the mill takes a handful 
of corn and drops it into the hole in the center 
of the upper stone. She turns the upper stone 
swiftly, and the corn works its wav between the 
two stones and out at the edges, being ground to 
flour in its passage. A vessel may be placed to 
receive it, or a cloth spread on the floor to catch 
it. In the latter case the flour collects in a ring 
round the nether millstone. 

The work is very hard, and bv no means quickly 
done. A woman who has no one to help her 
must spentl hours everv day to grind enough 
meal to feed her family, and the hum of the mill- 
stones in one house or another is incessant. \'ery 
often a second woman lends a hand, and the two 
women sit on their heels on opposite sides of the 
mill, and both grasp the same handle. It is to 
two women sitting at this task that the famous 
reference of the New Testament is made : "Two 
women shall be grinding at the mill ; the one shall 
be taken, and the other left." 

When the flour is ground it is mixed with salt 
and water into a stiff dough, and is leavened by 
working into it a piece of fermented dough saved 
from the last batch of bread. When the dough 
is ready for baking it is formed into large flat 
cakes, and never into loaves such as we use. This 
is because in the East bread is always broken by 
the hand, and never cut with a knife. Among 
Moslems it is a crime to cut bread with a knife, 
for they look upon bread as the supreme gift of 
Allah, and regard it as a thing to be kept sacred 
from the stroke of steel. 

The cakes are baked in various ways. One 
simple method is to build a fire of twigs in a large 
earthenware jar, and when the jar is very hot 
thin cakes of dough are spread around the sides. 
A larger oven is constructed as follows: Upon a 
flat pavement of stone a great shallow bowl of 
clav is placed upside down. In the center of the 
bowl there is a hole through which the woman 
attending to the bread can thrust her harid and 
arm. She builds a fireoverthis bigbowl-shapedves- 
sel, until both the vessel and the pavement which 
it covers are hot enough to receive the dough. 
Then the cakes are slipped through the hole in the 
vessel and laid on the pavement. The hole is closed 
with a cover, and fresh fuel is heaped over the 
oven to maintain the heat until the bread is baked. 



At the time of a feast, or in a wealthy house- 
hold, many dainties are baked in these simple 
ovens. "There are crisp network disks covered 
with sesame-seed, paste buns filled with pounded 
nuts, and folded in triangular shape; threads of 
vermicelli are twisted together to the thickness of 
a rope, steeped in a sauce of honey and nuts, and 
arranged in a flat coil, to make a large cake on a 
flat tray ; thin wafers are coated with grape- 
sirup, and powdered with pungent or fragrant 
seeds and leaf-dust; common loaves, before being 
sent to the oven, sometimes have the surface 
rubbed with oil and covered with aromatic seeds, 
and cakes are occasionally soaked or fried in boil- 
ing oil." But these dainties are very rarely seen 
or heard of in a peasant home. If the fellah and 
his family can get enough of wheaten bread to 
satisfy their hunger, they are perfectly content. 

The day in a peasant home begins with the 
family rising from the mattress where they have 
slept, and going at once about their work. What 
of breakfast? Most of them do not have any. 
There is, in fact, only one regular meal in the 
peasant day — the supper at evening. If hunger 
be felt at other times, there is no sitting down to 
a prepared meal. The hungry person seizes a 
handful of dates or figs, a bunch of grapes, a 
piece of bread, the first provision which conies to 
hand, and eats it as he goes about his task. 

One writer remarks : "I was riding out one 
afternoon to a village several hours' journev 
from Jerusalem, and about halfway overtook a 
peasant. After a little conversation he asked nic 
if I had any bread with me, as he had walked 
into the city that morning from a place some 
twenty-five miles distant, had transacted his busi- 
ness there, and had now got about halfvvav back, 
no food having passed his lips since his supper 
the previous evening." 

The father sets off to his work in the fields, 
and the mother becomes busy about the house. 
When she puts the baby down safely out of the 
wa}', she may put it in a cradle, but she is much 
more likely to lay it in a manger. All round the 
mustabeh, the upper floor occupied by the family, 
runs a trough hollowed out in its surface of dried 
mud. This is the manger from which the animals 
stabled in the lower part of the room eat their 
food, and here the baby is often placed, so that 
to this day in Palestine vou may see "a babe lying 
in a manger." 

The babe itself looks like a tiny living mummy, 
for it is wrapped in its swaddling-clothes, bound 
round and round from neck to foot with a long, 
broad strip of calico, so that body, arms, and legs 
are held perfectly straight and rigid. This wrap- 
ping is worn until the child is about three months 



THE HOMKI.ANI) OF TKSUS 



61 



old if it he stronq; nnd hcrJtiiy, but a weak cliilil 
is swaddled for a imicli lonj^er period. 

If there are older ehildrcn in the house, the 
washing- and dressuit;' of them is a \-er\' sliort 
affair. In the first plaee, the\- don't get washed 
at all, and in the second, their onh' garment is a 
sort of little cotton sack with three holes in it. 
Through the middle hole (he head is pushed, the 
arms slip out at the other h.olcs, and the child is 
dressed save for a little cap which he claps on, 
and is then reaiK' to run out to [da\' in the sand 
or the mud. 

The playtime |ieriod in the life of peasant chil- 
dren is a \'er\- short one. Ihev soon have to 
make themselves useful about the house or with 
the animals, and the little girls are set to work 
even earlier than the bo\s. 

Some of the children help to herd the sheep 
and goats, some are set to work to collect fuel. 
The latter ma\' be sticks and dried shrubs, it ma\' 
he stalks of grain from wdiich the ear has been 
gathered, but if there be nothing in the wav of 
wood or straw tcj be fiiund, it wall be dried dung. 

In man\- parts of Palestine dried dung is the 
onh" fuel used hv the peasants. It is a verv an- 
cient custom to gather the dung of goats and 
co«"S and store it for firing. It is not an unpleas- 
ant fuel to handle, as a stranger might think. 
Under the burning Syrian sun a. heap of dung 
becomes as drv and free from odor as a heap of 
straw. In manv Aullages the dunghill is b}' far 
the biggest thing about the place. It overtops the 
houses bv a long wav, and the villagers mount to 
its summit to look out across the plain, or sit 
there at sunset to enjoy the evening breeze. 

If the housewife has some clothes to wash, she 
and her daughters carry them to some stream or 
pool, and there they rub the clothes with wood 
ashes or clav in place of soap, and then beat the 
well-soaked garments with a heavy piece.of wood, 
and so, between heating and ruljbing, dri\'e the 
dirt out. They take no heed as to wdiere this 
washing is performed. It may be the onh- water- 
supply of themseh'es or their neighbors, but the)' 
do not hesitate to defile it. The peasantry arc 
incrediblv careless as to the condition of the 
water which they drink. If the liquid be almost 
solid with filth, a woman will pour the water 
through her veil, and thus filter a little of the 
heavier impurity, hut to the insanitary state of 
the fluid she carries home she gives never a 
thought. 

Some time ago there was an outbreak of 
cholera in a town of Palestine, and a young man 
from a neighboring village died of the disease. 
His mother went to the city and carried home the 
clothes of her dead son. These clothes she washed 



ill the spring which supplied the village with 
water, and a terrible outbreak of cholera soon 
showed itself aiiK-ing the villagers. I'.ut so great 
is the igiKU'ance of the peasantry th.at medical 
missionaries have the grcali'st difficulty in per- 
suading them th.at their own w;i\s ,are at fault, 
and that their own habits are ,it the bottom of the 
diseases from which thcv sufler. 

W hen the washing is finished, there is butter 
to be made in a nati\'e churn. The churn is a 
go.atskin aliout two-thirds filled with milk. The 
skin is swung from a tripod of three sticks, just 
as gipsies hang a pot on a fire. Then two women 
push the .skin to and fro between them, splashing 
the milk about in the skin until the butter sepa- 
rates. If there is onlv one woman at the work, 
she rocks the bag about on her knees. Very little 
of this butler is used fresh. It is mostly heated 
o\(,T the fire until it becomes clarified, and then 
it is stored in jars or skins, and used in cookery 
— fur frying vegetables, meat, or eggs, or for 
mixing with lioiled rice. Wdien properly and 
carefully prepared and stored, this clarified but- 
ter will keep good for vears. 

.\s e\'ening draws near the housewife begins 
to make pre|)aration for llir me.al of the day, the 
supper, to which all will .gather \\-hen the sun has 
fallen and the work of the da\' is over. She goes 
to her bins and takes out rice and washes it, and 
boils it in a metal \-essel. In another vessel some 
\eyetahles are cooked, and, if the family are well 
nit, a piece of meat is added to the vegetables. 
Every one, however poor, tries to find something 
with \\liich to make a hot dish at the evening 
me.al, even if it be only a handful of boiled lentils 
to moisten and make sa\'orv the drv bread. 

The cooking takes place outside the house in 
fine weather. A fire of sticks is lighted between 
two stones, and the cooking-pot stands on the 
stones. In wet wxathcr the fire is made in the 
house, hut in this case charcoal is used, as this 
gi\'es off little or no smoke. 

When the meal is ready, the main dish is 
served in a great bowl, wdiich is set in the middle 
of the floor, and round the bnwd are ranged cakes 
of bread. The members of the family wash their 
hands, and then squat on their heels round the 
big bowl and begin their meal. As each person 
dijis his hand into the howl — there are neither 
forks nor spoons — he utters a ])ious form of 
words for grace, and then proceeds to whip the 
grains of wdieat or rice into his mouth wdth his 
fingers. Pie does this in so dexterous a fashion 
th.at (dtcn not a grain \\'ill he dropped in the 
course of a meal, tjnlv the right hand is used, 
and the liquid of the dish is taken up by soaking 
pieces of bread in it. 



62 



THE HOMELAND OF JESUS 



When the soHd part of the meal is despatched, 
it is washed down with large draughts of water, 
and the hands are washed again to cleanse them 
from the stains of food. 

THE SYRIAN SHEPHERD 

The Eiible is full of allusions to the shepherd 
and his flock, and the scenes which furnished 
those allusions may still be seen, quite unaltered, 
in the Holy Land to-day. Still the shepherd leads 
his flock beside the still waters, and finds them a 
cool and shady place in the shelter of a great rock 
when the fierce middav sun beats down in over- 
powering radiance. He knows his sheep by name, 
and calls them around him wdien they stray, and 
carries the lambs in his arms wdien they are too 
feeble to clamlier over the wild, rocky slopes 
where the flock is searching for pasture. 

Syrian sheep are never placed in a field, as 
We understand a field. The only enclosure they 
know is a sheepfold, wdiere they can be penned 
closely for safetv, but cannot find food. When 
feeding, they wander far and wide over the open 
Country, exposed to the attacks of robbers and 
wild beasts, and their only guard is the shepherd, 
who may be aided by one or two strong dogs. 

The dogs are not used to drive the sheep, for 
the sheep are not driven, but led. The shepherd 
goes before them, and they follow him closely. 
The work of the dogs is to drive off wild beasts, 
and to warn the shepherd of the approach of 
thieves at night. Day and night the shepherd is 
with his flock. By day he may be seen leaning on 
his staff while his sheep pasture about him. From 
time to time he utters a peculiar call, to let his 
flock know that he is at hand; and so long as they 
hear his call they continue to graze quietly. But 
let him move away, only to a short distance, and 
then you see how well the sheep understand that 
they depend entirely upon him for protection. 
The feeding animals raise their heads and begin 
to run after him at once. H he calls in a certain 
tone or begins to play on his reed-flute, they know 
that he is about to lead them to a change of 
pasture, and follow closely, the lambs capering 
around him. 

One of the most interesting sights of shepherd 
life is to watch a flock fording a stream. The 
shepherd leads, as usual, and the sheep follow in 
a string at his heels; but in the middle of the 
stream the}" begin to lose their footing, and drift 
with the current. The shepherd hurries forward, 
grasping first one and then another, pushing as 
many as he can reach in front of him and hauling 
others up against the pressure of the water. As 
soon as he reaches the opposite side he hastens 



along the bank and draws out those that have 
been swept down and have reached the other 
side faint with the struggle. Nor does he rela.x 
his efforts until the whole of his flock is safely 
ashore. 

The shepherd still wears the ancient garb, and 
carries the things that shepherds used of old. He 
has his great cloak of sheepskin or cloth, which 
forms a coat b}^ day and a blanket by night ; he 
carries scrip and gourd, rod and staff. His scrip 
is a large bag, made of the skin of a kid. In this 
he stores his simple fare of bread, olives, raisins, 
cheese, and dried figs. His gourd contains water 
or milk. 

Hanging at his side or thrust through his girdle 
is a stout club, the "rod" of the Bible. This club 
is his weapon of defence, and is usually made of 
oak. He chooses for this purpose a straight 
young tree, and tears it up by the roots. The 
root-knot is trimmed to a round head as big as a 
man's fist, and the handle is dressed down to a 
convenient thickness for the grasp, and the club 
carefullv seasoned. Into the heavy knob he drives 
nails wdth large heads. The cudgel is now, in the 
hands of a strong man, a most terrible weapon. 
With so formidable a club it is easy to believe 
that David could have slain either lion or bear 
when he was guarding his flock. 

The staff is of the same wood, a plain, straight 
stick without fork or crook, some six feet in 
length. The shepherd uses it to assist him in 
clambering over the rocks, to strike oft" small 
twigs and leaves to feed his flock, or to punish 
and part fighting goats. 

As night draws on, the shepherd leads his flock 
toward the sheepfold. This may be an en- 
closure surrounded by a rude stone wall or by a 
hedge of thorns, or it may be a cave in the hill- 
side, its mouth blocked by a line of stones. In 
either case the shepherd has a little hut of 
branches near the entrance, where he keeps watch 
over his flock. Sheep, above all, need constant 
care, as they fall so easv a prey to wild beasts. 
If a wolf appears, the sheep scatter in flight, and 
are easily seized. Not so the goats. These close 
together and form a solid mass, their horns to the 
front and ready for an assailant. 

In the wilder parts of the country the shepherd 
must be on the alert at night, and he finds one or 
two faithful dogs of great assistance, both to 
give help and to give warning. Jackals, hyenas, 
and wolves prowl about the folds, and at times 
leopards have been known to work great havoc. 
But, as a rule, it is the fierce, cunning gray wolf 
which tloes the most mischief, and many are the 
battles between him and the faithful dogs who 
keep unceasing watch over the flock. A 



THE HOMELAND OE lESLTS 



63 



will kill n wolf in single combat, and such an ani- 
mal is a treasure to its owner, anil made mucli cd'. 
A Syrian sheep-dog has heen known to iilTer bat- 
tle to a leopard in defence of the sheep; but here 
tlie combat was too uneijual, and the bra\e dog 
was slain. 

^^'olves are dangerous, not onl\' b\- night, but 
often in broad daylight. -\ shepherd had one da\- 
led his sheep to a small valle\' not more than a 
mile from a large \'illag"e. The \'alle\' was dotted 
with hushes, and as he sat under the sh.ade of a 
tree, he saw two creatures ino\"ing through the 
scrub, and creeping- toward a sheep wdiich had 
wandered a little awa\- from the rest. He watched, 
and at last made out that thev were two great 
wolves. Suddenh- the wolves leapt out in the 
open and darted on the sheep. The shcpheril ran 
to the spot, drawing his club from his girdle as 
he ran. 

The woh'es were dragging the sheep away as 
he rushed up to them; but on hearing his cries. 
the two savage beasts left their victim and flew 
straight at the shepherd. He launched a tre- 
mendous blow" at them and caught one on the 
back, and felled it to the ground wdth its liack- 
bone broken right through. But the club flew 
from his hand, and the second wolf, a huge gray 
brute, seized him bv his arm and made its long, 
sharp teeth meet in his flesh. The shepherd 
clutched its neck with his free hand, and there 
was a long, fierce struggle, in wdiich the man 
fought hard for his life. At length he managed 
to drive the head of the wolf against a stone, and 
partially stunned it. Xc)w he had a chance to 
seize his club, and a single blow dashed out the 
brains of the savage beast. 

Thieves and robbers sometimes attack a sheep- 
fold, but, as a rule, these rogues prefer to make 
an attempt on a flock wdiich is spending the night 
in the open country. Then fcair or five thieves 
creep up upon different sides until they are quite 
near to the flock. Now a signal is given by the 
leader, and every man fires his gun into the air. 
The flashes and the noise startle the sheep, which 
run in all directions. The bewildered shepherd 
does not know wdiich way to turn first in the 
darkness, and in the confusion the thie^'es seize 
as many sheep as they can and make off wdth 
their booty. 

li this takes place near a town, the shepherd 



has a good idea wdicrc to look for his stolen 
sheep or go.ats. He sets off ,at once to the town, 
;ind goes to the butchers to .ask if they have 
bouglil ,-m\- aniiii.als l,alel\-, ami, if so, he demands 
lo see Iheiii. ( )r if they lia\e killed tb.at day, he 
demands to be shown the heads .and hiiles of the 
sbiugluered animals, lie knows at once whether 
these came from his flock or not, and if they dicl, 
he cl.aims eoni[iensation from the authorities. 

The thie\'es get riil of the sl(jlen animals be- 
cause the)' do not dare to kee|j them, and to sell 
them to the butchers is the quickest wa\' of turn- 
ing the theft to account, ddiey do not dare to 
kee]) them because the she[)herd would recognize 
his own sheep or goats instanlU', and the robliery 
would be brought home to them. The power of 
an Eastern shephcnl to identifv any animal under 
his care borders upon the mar\-elous. He often 
has a name for e\'ery slice]), ami he can alwa\-s 
point out a nunflier of particulars wdiich mark 
out an_\- given sheep from tlie rest, though to the 
e\e of a stranger one sheep looks exactly like 
another. 

(Jne day a niis5ionar\-, meeting a shepherd on 
one of the wildest ]iarts of the Ecbanon, asked 
him \-arious questions about his sheep, — among 
others, if he counted them e\-er\' night. On an- 
swering that he did not, he was asked how he 
knew if they were all there or not. His reply 
was; "iMasler, if you were to put a cloth o\-er mv 
e_\-es, and bring me any sheep, and onI\- let me put 
my hands on its face, .1 could tell in a moment if 
it was mine or not." 

Sometimes half a dozen different flocks are 
penned in a single fold, and by the morning the 
animals are mixed, so that it winild seem a difili- 
cult task to sort them out. Eut the shepherds do 
not attempt any such thing. The gates of the 
fold are opened, and the crowd of animals begins 
to stream out, eager to return to the feeding- 
ground. Then the shepherds separate, and stand 
at different points around the fold, and each man 
utters his own call. The mass of sheep and goats 
Ijrcaks up at once, each flock running to its own 
shepherd as he moves slowly away, calling and 
calling. El a few minutes the fold is empty, and 
the flocks are mo\-ing olT in e\-er\' direction, each 
following Its shephenl and heading away to the 
hillsides, where they wall S|)end the long warm 
day in searching for the scanty herbage. 




HO, FOR THE CHRISTMAS TREE! 
64 



!1!^ 



QiG^ULC^IDC LIGHTS 

AURA -ALTON- PAYN 




inas fi'slii'ity in Szfeticti. At three o'clotl: on C/iriittiias 
itwrnirfg TOIL'S of candles are lig/tted in ez'Cry 7vindow in 
cacli divelling-ltOKse ami citurclt. At/our o'clocll, tore It- 
bearing ilirongs wend from vale and inottntain to the vil- 
lage church, briglit zoiik its Citristinas decoratiotis. 
ivhere tliey listen to the sonic service Jieard in every vil- 
lage in Sweden and every Swedisli colony in A nicrica. 
}l hcji the bells, whicli Itave rung/or lialf an hour, cease, 
the co7tgregation arises and hrcal,s into tlie old, o.d Sioed- 
ish hymn, ^* A II hail to thee, O blessed morn .' " Thentlie 
pastor preaches from the text used at cz'cry Yule Lights 
celebration for three hundred years : " The people that 
have walked in darkness have seen a great light .• . . 
upon them hath the light siiined. For unto us a cJiild is 
born; unto us a son is giz'en — the Prince of Peace.'* 

There borders cii the Baltic Sea 

A rugged land and cold, 
Wdiere Sweden's soil has nurtured long 

A hardv race an<l bold ; 
Warm hearts are theirs, and simple faith 

In king's or custom's rtile. 
And dear to them from ancient days 

The blessed lights of Yule. 

At three o'clock on Christmas morn, 
On mount and in the vale, 

At ever_v window in each house 
A row of candles pale — 

Wee sentinels of Christmas Day- 
Burst into golden flame, 

And flash their herald-lights afar 
In honor of His name. 



IN SWEDEN: "AT THREE O'CLOCK ON CHRISTMAS MORN, ON MOUNT AND IN THE VALE." 

05 




IN AMERICA: "FOR MILES ACROSS THE SNOW FLASH MYRIAD MELLOW CANDLE-LIGHTS." 



?] 



^ CHRISTMAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES 



ST. NICHOLAS IX HOLLAND 

The great feast-day for the children of Holland. 
like our Christmas in many points, is that of St. 
Nicholas. Indeed, we borrow the saint under the 
guise of Santa Claus. and our little ones look for 
him and the treasures he brings them. This 
Dutch feast occurs on December 5. In the big 
towns the shops are brilliantly decorated for days 
beforehand, and it is one of the children's treats 
to go out with their parents on the eve of St. 
Nicholas to see the shops, many of which dis- 
tribute small presents from the bag held by a 
gorgeously clothed image of the saint standing 
in the doorway. 

At home the children meet with the saint once 
more. The room is cleared, and in he walks, car- 
rying a big sackful of sweetmeats, oranges, ap- 
ples, etc., which he scatters on the floor. Indeed, 
the eve of St. Nicholas is called Strooiavond, 
which means "strewing evening." With all this 
joy and excitement to usher in the feast, what 
can be said of the day itself? The excited chil- 
dren go early to bed to bring the morning more 
quickly. Before they retire they put their largest 
shoes, or sabots, in the chimney-place, so that St. 
Nicholas, coming in the night with his black 
slave, may fill them with good things. The chil- 
dren are not lie-a-beds on this eventful day. Up 
before daylight, their first visit is to the chimney- 
place, where they find that the saint has stuft'ed 
their foot-gear with fruit and sweets. The more 
important presents are hidden away all over the 
house, and the joy of discovering them is im- 
mense. 

Naturally, give-and-take occurs. Petrus hands 
over the beautiful doll he found in a saucepan to 
Eetje, who is quite content to gjve him in ex- 
change the box of leaden soldiers which were so 
cunningly hidden in mother's large work-basket. 

"One winter, at this time of the year," says a 
writer, 'T was staying with my husband at the 
little fishing village of Volendam, and we wished 
that the little Volendamers, who are all very poor, 
should for once have a splendid St. Nicholas. A 
French artist, who was there at the same time. 



67 



was of our opinion, and we were equally sup- 
ported l>y our host Spaandcr and his wife and 
their family of blooming daughters. In the 
wooden hotel there is a 'coffee-room,' long and 
low, of really vast proportions. In the summer- 
time half of it forms the drawing-room. At the 
farther end of this apartment is a small stage, 
with wings. On this occasion fthanks to Spaan- 
der ) the whole of it was covered in spotless 
white, tables were erected, and upon their sur- 
face were arranged about a thousand to}'S and as 
man\- oranges and cakes. 

"A white throne was placed for St. Nicholas, 
whose part was taken b\' the hVenchman. He 
wore a long white woolen robe falling over a 
purple silk underdress, a cape of costly old yel- 
low lirocade, and a gorgeous jeweled miter, and 
he was made venerable b\' long white hair and 
beard. The dress of the black slave, whose part 
was taken by my husband, was equally correct 
and effecti\e — a long, tight-fitting garment of 
green velvet, showing a white robe underneath ; 
an orange silk turban was wound round the black 
locks of a disguising wig and lit up his cork- 
black face. So much for the preparations, com- 
pleted wdth considerable trouble and a great deal 
of amusement. 

"}ily husband painted a large poster, on which 
was set forth a notice to all the children of Vo- 
lendam that at 6.30 a boat would land upon the 
qua\-, bearing St. Nicholas and his faithful slave 
laden with gifts. (Jne may easily imagine the joy 
and delight of these poor fisher-children, into 
whose uneventful lives what many other children 
call a treat hardly ever enters. They crowded 
about the announcement, and read that St. Nich- 
olas would come laden with gifts. Who can say 
what wild, beautiful hopes filled their hearts? 
Before five o'clock the youngsters began to as- 
semble. The quay was crowded with them, so 
was the narrow road leading from the quay to 
the hotel. The parents also were there, quite as 
excited as their children. Indeed, all \'olendam 
turned out to welcome the saint. Rain began to 
fall; but, although it soaked their poor clothes, it 
seemed to have no damping effect upon their spir- 



68 



CHRISTMAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES 



its, all afire as they were with expectation. Mean- 
while, the saint and his slave rowed out to their 
boat. 

"It was now almost dark, but in the faint light 
one could still distinguish the fishing-boats which 
always crowd the harbor, their tall masts and 
sails dimly defined against the gray sky, and 
their narrow flags gently flapping in the rain. At 
one point there was an opening between the boats, 
a glimmering waterway, where those who were 
in the secret expected the boat to appear. The 
time passed slowly. It was seven o'clock ; the 
saint was half an hour late, and every one was 
very wet. Still, all Volendam was full of cheer- 
ful good humor. 

"At length a blaze of bright light far out on 
the water revealed the saint — a venerable figure 
standing in the boat, crozier in hand, evidently 
blessing the expectant crowd. In a few moments 
the boat reached the landing-place. With blare 
of trumpets, and by the light of the torches, a 
procession was formed. How radiant were the 
faces illumined by the flickering glow I Soon the 
warm, well-lighted cafe was reached. The saint 
sat on his throne, and his good slave rapidly dis- 
tributed presents to the little ones, safely housed 
from the inclement weather ! Alas ! they were 
very wet; but, as not one of the seven hundred 
coughed during the distribution, it may be con- 
cluded that the young Volendamers do not easily 
take cold. 

"Every face beamed with happiness. The 
genial St. Nicholas and his hard-worked slave; 
the Spaander family, all helping vigorously; the 
three fine, tall Volendamers, who, in their yellow 
scarfs of office, kept order so gently and gaily; 
down to the very youngest child — all the faces 
were sweet and patient, and aglow with the plea- 
sure either of giving or receiving. 

"The crowd of children looked plump and 
healthy, and although many garments were much 
patched, there were no rags ; the poorest seemed 
to be well cared for and comfortable. Seven hun- 
dred of them were made happy with toys and 
fruit ; but there was no scrambling or pushing, 
nothing but happy expectation, and then still 
more happy satisfaction. All too soon it was 
over ; the last child clattered down the long room 
with its precious armful. 

"Afterward we heard from the school-teachers 
and the children's parents that most of them be- 
lieved firmlv that it was the real saint descended 
from heaven who had laid his hands on their 
heads in benediction as they received their pres- 
ents from the black slave." 

Don't you think the children of Holland have 
as much to make them happy as any children have ? 



CHRISTMAS IN GERMANY 

There is no nation in the world that makes such 
a charming feast of Christmas as the Germans 
do, and it is no exaggeration to say that the la- 
dies of the family spend months in preparing for 
it. When they come back from their summer 
holiday, they think over the presents they wish to 
give, and begin to make them. Most women in 
Germany have not a great deal of money to spend 
in such a way, so they give their time and skill 
to embroidering all kinds of things for the house 
and for personal use. Nowadays Germany is a 
prosperous country; in the big towns there are 
fine shops, and rich people can buy their presents 
if they prefer to do so. But the old fashion of 
making something yourself for those you love 
best has not died out yet, although the things 
that are made naturally change a little from year 
to year. 

When a German girl was engaged, she used to 
embroider her lover's monogram in a pocketbook 
for him with her own hair, or make him a pair of 
slippers, or work him some braces in fine beads. 
The modern girl makes a set of shoe-bags for 
traveling, embroiders a table-cover or a sofa- 
cushion, puts a monogram on fine handkerchiefs, 
or knits a silk necktie. Berlin woolwork slippers 
are not worn now, except in country places, and 
canvas braces, embroidered with garlands of 
roses, have gone with them. But so many pres- 
ents are given at Christmas and on birthdays that 
a German home still exhibits every form of 
handiwork the women and children of the family 
know how to practise. 

About a fortnight before Christmas the fair 
begins in the market-place, and the shops make 
their windows as attractive as they can. Even 
in the smaller towns that have no fair you know 
it is Christmas when you go to market because 
the trees have come. There they are, all sizes 
and all prices ; so many of them that they scent 
the air. They have Christmas-trees in other 
lands, but to the German mind some have them 
all wrong. They give a party when they light 
the tree, or they put their presents on it, or they 
have it after Christmas. 

In Germany every one, from the Emperor 
down to the poorest laborer, has a tree, but he 
has it at Christmas, either on the eve, or on the 
day, or on the first week-day after Christmas, 
which he calls Ziveiter Weihnachtstag (second 
Christmas Day), and he has it with his family 
around him. 

A German family may invite relatives or mti- 
mate friends to its tree, but never a party. As a 
rule, there is one tree lighted with candles, or 



CHRISTMAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES 



(<<) 



decorated with apples, sweetmeats, and small 
toys. But there are usualh' mure sweetmeats and 
fewer to\ s than on an American tree. Some nf 
the sweetmeats are called Kri)i(/clii. and the\" are 
like cracknel, or hrittle biscuit, made in twisted 
figures of eight, so that thev easdv haui.;" on. 
Others have fascinating lunitnig-scenes of col- 
ored sugar on a white hackgrouml, and the cele- 
brated Liibcckcr Miircipdii (an alniDud ])aste 1 
imitates all kinds oi fnnt and \egetables so well 
that people often take them for real. 

\A'hen there are se\eral chddren and iilent\- of 
money in a familv, each child sometimes lias a 
tree of its own. and at anv rate it will have its 
own table covered with presents and things to 
eat. All the servants have gifts, too. and crime in 
for the Bcschcniiig, or presenting, wdieii the tree 
is lighted, and the presents are given. 

A traveler tells of "one German Christmas 
when throughout the evening some fresh sur- 
prise came to some member of the large faimly. 
and these were called Julklapp. We had all 
looked at the tree, wdiich touched the ceiling, and 
was frosted wdth siher. and we had lnuked at our 
own presents and at each other's, wdien in came 
the Cliristkind (Christ-child), dressed in white 
robes, wearing a golden crown, and having big 
golden wdngs. In his arms he carried a huge 
parcel, wdiich he threw into the arms of a daugh- 
ter of the house. 'JiilkUipp !' he criei.l, and \-an- 
ished again. 'Julklapp !' cried every one else, and 
watched to see wdiat the parcel held. It was as 
bi,g as a hat-box, so you may guess how many 
wrappings the voung lady had to undo before she 
came to a jewel-case that held a row of pearls. 
Directly she had found it the Cliristkind appeared 
again with a Julklapp for some one else, and he 
went on wdth his surprises until supper-time, 
when he bid all the children 'good-by for a 
year." " 

Xew Year's E\-e and Xew Year's Da}- are kept 
more universallv in Germany than in some coun- 
tries, but there is not such an exchange of pres- 
ents as, for instance, in France. On Xew ^'ear's 
Eve there is usually a dance, and when midnight 
comes every one watches for the exact moment 
when the Xew Year begins. In Hamburg .great 
crowds gather on the Jungfernstie.g. the fine 
street facing the Alster, and at twelve o'clock 
they send up a mighty shout of Prosit Xcujahr 
("Hail to the Xew Year!"). On Xew Year's 
Day people get large numbers of cards from 
their friends washing them a Happy Xew Year, 
but plain visitin.g-cards are used more than the 
decorative ones that we send at Christmas. Plum- 
puddings and mince-pies are not known in Ger- 
many, but every town has its own special cakes 



and sweetmeats, and its own dishes. In Hani- 
lairg. besides the Marcipnii , \iai get hone\'-cakcs 
and gnigerbread-cake'i ni packet^, Imth b.aked 
hard, and unifurm in size. In Snuth Germain' 
\iiu get LcbL'iichcii. a snrt ul sug.ared ginger- 
bread. In Saxony the celebrated Slallcii are 
eaten e\"er\-wliere — king narrow cakes made with 
currants, and sprinkled with white sugar, dliev 
come down Irdin the Middle .\ge^, and are said 
to represent the Eal.ie in the Manger. 

CHRISTMAS E\"E IX RUSSI.V 

Ix Russia it is not Christmas Da\', Init Christ- 
mas Eve. that is the great time of rlelight fur the 
children. Santa Clans does not Iiegin his wijrk in 
the da\-time ; he waits till the evening. Ect us see 
how the little girl whom we \\ill call Irina I'e- 
trovna spends her Christmas Eve in a country 
house. 

.She wakes at seven o'clock, but the room is 
dark, because there are double shutters to keep 
out the great cold. 

Presentlv ^Mashinka, the old servant and nurse, 
enters in her short, dark-blue skirt and large 
wdiite apron, with a white handkerchief on her 
smooth hair, and opens the outer shutters. .\s a 
rule she has all sorts of gossip to tell at this time: 
wolves ha\'e been into the courtyard and fou.ght 
the watch-dogs during the night, or there has 
been a heavv fall of snow, so that Ivan Ivano- 
vitch has had to help to cut a new path from the 
house to the kitchens and the stables and the 
farm buildings just behind. C)r Dmitri Micliaelo- 
vitch moved into his new hnu = e with a cock and 
hen, and at dawn the cock refused to crow, so all 
the famih- are fearing the misfortune wdiich is 
sure to frdlow. 

But this morning she has no such news to give; 
she moves silently and slowdy, for it is a fast day. 

Irina jumps up, and in a few minutes has 
dressed and put on her warm red plaid frr.ck. ,'^he 
walks dowm-stairs : at other times she would run 
or jump, but to-da\- all is so silent ami still that 
the little girl feels oppressed. 

The dining-room is desolate, wdth its breakfast- 
less table. Generally it looks so cozy, for Irina's 
father, Peter \"assili\-itch, is well-to-do. He owais 
land, and, what is rare in Russian Landlords, looks 
after it well himself. As a rule, thew like other 
well-to-do pieople, spend this time in .St. Peters- 
burg; but this }-ear they have come awa_\' to their 
country house, because Andrei the stewarrl wanted 
to know about some plans fur new stables and 
barns. 

Perhaps that is win- Irina finds a farmer's man- 
, ual on a side-table and a couple of calendars be- 



7u 



CHRISTMAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES 



side it. At any rate everj'thing is depressing, and 
up-stairs her father and mother are praying in 
their rooms. 

In the hall she puts on a long fur coat with a 
big warm collar coming right above the ears; 
then follows the fur cap, which comes well down 
over her forehead. She runs across the rough, 
snow-covered drive, past the long seesaw which 
every country house possesses, and then among 
the trees. 

There is no well-kept park round a Russian 
country house, no neatly clipped hedge to bound 
it, and no well-trimmed drive leading to the main 
road, so she quicklv gets into the thick forest, 
where the fairy-like branches of the birch-trees 
brush against her as she passes. 

In a short time she comes to a frozen river, and 
finds two boy friends busy with a little sledge. 
They, too, are in fur coats and caps. Forgetting 
all about fast days and solemn services, she gets 
into the sledge, and, holding the red scarfs of the 
boys, she drives her human and willing horses 
far over the snow-covered ice. It is far from St. 
Petersburg, perhaps two thousand miles, and as 
they run they get through the forest and on to 
the steppes, or great plains. No big trees arc to 
be seen ahead, but bending willows mark the 
curves of the winding stream. 

In an hour or two Irina sees one of her father's 
sheepfolds, a long, low thatched building all white 
with snow, and out comes the shepherd with his 
dogs. Inside the building the sheep are standing 
or lying close together, creeping closer to a stack 
of wool at one end of the shed as they retreat 
before the newcomers. There are no chairs, so 
the shepherd gives the children rough heaps of 
clean straw to sit on. Then, forgetting that it is 
a fast dav, the kind-hearted shepherd reaches a 
piece of rye bread from a shelf below the tiny 
square window, and gives it to them with a cup 
of goat's milk. It is rough fare for the children, 
but the dark brown bread, black crust and all, 
soon vanishes. Then they rest, and the shepherd 
tells them stories while they stroke the half-tamed 
sheep. He cannot read, this shepherd, but he has 
always known those stories, he heard them so 
often from his mother and grandmother, and 
everv one knows them. 

What shall he tell them? "A fairy story" they 
say. Shall it be the tale of the W'ater-snake? 
No ! Irina does not like the Water-snake, it is so 
sad; she would rather hear about Vasilissa and 
her wonderful doll ; so the peasant tells them the 
story that little boys and girls have loved to hear 
in Russia as long as you, children, have known 
about Cinderella. 

The shepherd ends his story just as the after- 



noon begins to close, and off go the children 
along the even snow and through the forest. Oi 
arriving home they confess their sins — only thi 
little matter of the rye bread is not mentioned 
Everybody is busy ; the cook is getting ready tht 
supper, and father is inside the drawing-room 
with the door locked. Irina tries to see thro.ugl 
the keyhole. Some one has said there is to be nc 
Christmas tree, but if so, why did mother gc 
away shopping for four days? And why did th( 
peddler who came two days ago stay so long? 

Irina finds a book, and tries to read it, but it i; 
only Kryloft's ''Fables," and she does not under- 
stand them, so she gets tired, and goes back tc 
the door with her brothers. 

"Cuckoo," "Cuckoo," rings out the clock sij 
times, and then open comes the door. There is a 
Christmas tree after all I It reaches from flooi 
to ceiling, with a shining star at the top. Hun- 
dreds of burning white candles light up its dark 
needles, and tiny wax figures dance among the 
hanging oranges. At the foot of the tree lies ;. 
heap of parcels. Ah ! that explains those four 
days' shopping. No one is forgotten, and every 
one makes merry. 

Then comes Pavel, in his black Sunday clothes, 
to say that supper is ready. The dining-table 
looks very different from usual; the white cloth is 
there, but it is not smooth. Underneath it has 
been spread a laver of hay, and the children's fin- 
gers are at once busy pulling out stalks Irina 
gives a cry of joy; her piece is quite complete 
with its yellow dried flower — and that shows [hat 
she will be lucky all the year. 

There is no meat to be eaten, but only fish 
dishes, followed by puddings. Their puddings are 
very special, and there are two, the white kostya, 
made of rice, almonds, and raisins, and the black 
kostya, made of honey, barley, and walnuts. 

During supper the children from the school 
which Irina's mother has started sing carols out- 
side, and many small coins are taken out to them 
by Pavel. Then follow the young villagers, also 
singing and receiving gifts. Lastly comes the 
church choir. They too receive money, and are in- 
vited in to supper after Irina and the others have 
returned to their wonderful tree and their toys. 

All too soon comes bedtime, to which the little 
Russian girl and her brothers object— just as 
much as you do — and they are allowed on this 
special evening— just as you are — to stay up a 
little longer. 

THE DANISH CHRISTMAS 

Christmas Eve, and not Christmas Day, is the 
festive occasion in Denmark. Everybody, in- 



CHRISTMAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES 7) 

eluding the poorest, niust ha\e a Christmas tree, coni[)aninieiit ni the il.ince, ami tliese fulk-lorists 

and roast goose, apple-cake, rice porridge with an generally sing while dancing; liut occasionally a 

almond in it, form the banqnct. The lucky person fiddler or llulist pla\s for them, and hecunies the 

who finds the almond receives an extra present, leader in llie dance. 

and much mirth is occasioned h)- tlie Search, ddie After the gaieties nf Christmas E\-e, with its 

tree is lighted at dusk, and the children dance feasting and dancing and general merriment, 

round it and sing. This performance opens the (/hri^tmas Da\- is kept ipnellv; hut the d.av ful- 

festivities ; then the presents are gi\'eu, dinner lowing (St. Stephen's l)a\-) is one of merr\-mak- 

served, and afterward the young people dance. ing, w hen the people g(j from house to hijuse to 

The Danes are a kindly people, and are noted greet their friends and spread abroad the spirit 

for their hospitalit\- and good cheer. lA'cr)- wo- of social gladness, 
man at the head of a Danish household is an ex- 
cellent cook, as well as being an intelligent com- HOW SPAIN KEEPS CHRISTM.VS 
panion. In the apartment houses, or flats, of 

Copenhagen, as also in other Danish homes, the d'liE gay, light-hearted, pleasure-loving Spaniard 
dining-room is the largest and iiiost important, delights in nierr) making, and numerous are the 
The Dane thinks much of his dinner, and dinner- national, local, and family occasions of public re- 
parties are the principal form of entertainment, joicing. Natiinial holiila_\- celebrations, local gala- 
They joke al.iout their appreciation of the good (la)-s in homir of patron saints, local fairs and pil- 
things of tlie table, and sav, "a turkey is not a grim.ages — these are not all; for when custom 
good table-bird, as it is a little too much for one fails to provide a general entertainment for the 
Dane, but not enough for two!" So we may be day, there is likely to be good reasrm for family 
sure that the Christmas dinner in a Danish home fesli\-ities, in that this ]jarticular day happens to 
is prepared with as much abundance of good lie the anni\-ersary of the saint after whf)m 
things as taste asks for and means warrant. father, mother, or one of the children is named. 

As for the Christmas dancing, that is certain Important, of course, in the Spanish round of 
to be a form of entertainment enjoyed liy all who public liolidaA-s is Christmas-tide. The great time 
take part in it or look on. The Danes, like all fi;ir fun and frolic is Christmas E\-e, La Kochc 
the Scandinavians, are renowned for their love of JJiiciia (the Cood Night). The churches arc a 
dancing. Lately thev have revived the beautiful blaze of lights. The markets are packed with 
old folk-dances, realizing at last the necessity of p\-ramids of oranges, melons, and lemons, ddie 
keeping the ancient costumes, dances, and songs sho[)S or stores are brilliantly illuminated and 
before the people, if thev would not have them decorated «-ith ribbons and flowers, and equally 
completely wdped out. A few patriotic Danes gorgeous booths cater for the extra cust.jm at 
have formed a society of ladies and gentlemen to this period of feasting and re\-elry. Bonfires are 
bring about this revival. These are calleil the lighted; a great slaughter of turke\-s is made, to 
folk-dancers, their object being to stimulate the the loud accompaniment of protests screeched by 
love of old-time Denmark in the modern Dane, the flocks of birds awaiting their last moment; 
by showing him the dance, accompanied by folk- streets are thronged with excited crow-Is di\dng 
song, which his forefathers delighted in. Old- in and out of shops, dancing on the pa^-emcnts, 
time ways the Dane of to-day is perhaps a little moving in processions along the roads, lingering 
too ready to forget, but dance and song appeal to to enjo}- the sights; and everywhere there are 
his northern nature. The beautiful old costumes soumls of music — tambourines jangling, guitars 
of the FJanish peasants have almost entirely dis- tinkling, voices ringing out joyous refrains, 
appeared, but those worn by the folk-dancers are Nacimientos take the ]dace of our Christmas 
copies of' the costumes formerly worn in the dis- trees — pasteboard representations of the Nativity, 
tricts they represent. These costumes, with heavy with terra-cotta figures. In a manger lies a model 
gold embroidery, curious hats, or pretty velvet of the Infant Christ; near by stand the Holy 
caps, weighty with silver lace, must have been a ^ilother and St. Joseph; the ox and the ass are 
great addttion to local coloring. The men as well stalled; the Wdse iMen are worshiping the Holy 
as the women wore a gay dress, and it is to be Child, and there are angels hovering around. 
regretted that these old costumes have disap- Nacimientos are eagerly purchased by the chil- 
peared from the villages and islands of Den- dren, who love them dearly, and there is one 
jjjgj.]^ lighted up in every house, from the richest man- 
In olden times the voice was the principal ac- sion to the poorest hovel. 




Drawn by Frederick I 



'CHRISTMAS LIGHTS DO FADK AWAY 
IN THE CLEAR GLOW OK NEW^-YEAR DAY." 

— Old Sung. 



HOW UNCLE SAM OBSERVES CHRISTMAS 




BY CLIFFORD HOWARD 



Of course Uncle Sam is best acquainted with the 
g'ood old-fashioned Cliristmas — the kind we have 
known all about since we were little bits of chil- 
dren. There are the Christmas trees with their 
pretty decorations and candles, and the mistletoe 
and holly and all sorts of e\'ergreenf to make the 
house look bright, while outside the trees are 
bare, the ground is white with snow, and Jack 
Frost is prowding around, freezing up the ponds 
and pinching people's noses. .\nd then there is 
dear old Santa Claus with his reimleer, galloping 
about on the night before Christmas, and scram- 
bling down chimneys to fill the stockings that 
hang in a row by the fireplace. 

It is the time of good cheer and happiness and 
presents for everybody; the time of chiming bells 
and jovful carols; of turkey and candy and plum- 
pudding and all the other good things that go to 
make up a truly merrv Christmas. And here and 
there throughout the cr.untry, some of the quaint 
old customs of our forefathers are still observed 
at this time, as, for instance, the pretty custom 
of "Christmas waits" — bovs and .girls who go 
about from house to house on Christmas eve, or 
early Christmas morning, singing carols. 

But, aside from the Christmas customs we all 
know so well. Uncle Sam has manv strange and 
special wavs of observing Christmas : for in this 
big country of his there are many different kinds 
of people, and they all do not celebrate Christmas 
in the same way, as you shall see. 



IX THE SOUTH 

Siss! Bang! Boom! Sky-rockets hissing, 
crackers snap[)ing, cannons roaring, horns toot- 
ing, bells ringing, and y(.)ungsters shouting with 
wild delight. That is the wa\' Christmas begins 
diiwn South. 

It starts at miilnight, or e\'cn before; and all 
day liing fire-crackers are going off in the streets 
of everv cit\', town, and village of the South, 
from \drginia to Louisiana. A Northern bov, 
waking up suddenlv in Xew Orleans or Mobile 
or .\tlanta, \\'ould think he was in the midst of a 
rousing Fourth-of-July celebration. In some of 
the towns the brass bands come out and add to 
the jollity at the day by marching around and 
playing "My iMar_\dand" and "Dixie"; while the 
soldier coiupanies parade up anrl down the streets 
to the strains of joyous music and fire salutes 
^^■ith cannons and rifles. 

To the .girls and boys of the South, Christmas 
is the noisiest and jolliest day of the vear. The 
Fourth of Julv does n't compare with it. .And 
as for the darkies, the\- look upon Christmas as 
,a holida\- that was in\'cnted for their especial 
lirippincss. Thev take it for granted that all the 
"white folks" the\- kno«' will .give them presents; 
and with grinninr faces thev are up bright and 
carlv, asking for "Christmus gif, mistah ; Christ- 
mus gif. missus." Xo one thinks of refusing them. 
and at the end of the day they are richer and 



74 



CHRISTMAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES 



happier than 
year. 

Except for 



at any other time during the whole 
the jingle of sleigh-hells and the For a 



IN NEW ENGLAND 




"THE GOOD OI,D-FASHIONED CHRISTMAS 



presence of Jack Frost, a Christmas in the South 
is in other ways very much like that in the North. 
The houses are decorated with greens, mistletoe 
hangs above the doorways, Santa Claus comes 
down the chimneys and fills the waiting stockings, 
while Christmas dinner is not complete without 
the familiar turkey and cranberry sauce and pies, 
as well as all the other "trimmings." 



reat many years there was no Christmas in 
New England. The Pil- 
grims and the Puritans 
did not believe in such 
celebrations. In fact, they 
often made it a special 
point to do their hardest 
work on Christmas day, 
just to show their con- 
tempt for what they con- 
sidered a pagan festival. 
During colonial times 
there was a law in Massa- 
chusetts forbidding any 
one to celebrate Christ- 
mas; and if anybody was 
so rash in those days as to 
go about tooting a horn 
and shouting a "Merry 
Christmas !" he was 
promptty brought to his 
senses by being arrested 
and punished. 

Of course things are 
very different in New 
England now, but in many 
country towns the peo- 
ple still make more of 
Thanksgiving than they 
do of Christmas; and 
there are hundreds of 
New England men and 
women still living who 
knew nothing of Christ- 
mas as children— who 
never hung up their stock- 
ings ; who never waited 
for Santa Claus; who 
never had a tree; who 
never even had a Christ- 
mas present I 

Nowadays, however, 
Christmas in New Eng- 
land is like Christmas 
anywhere else; but here 
and there, even now, the 
eft'ects of the early Puri- 
tan ideas may still be seen. In some of the smaller 
and out-of-the-way towns and villages you will 
find Christmas trees and evergreens in only a 
very few of the houses, and in some places-par- 
ticularly in New Hampshire— one big Christmas 
tree does for the whole town. This tree is set up 
in the town hall, and there the children go to get 
their gifts, which have been hung on the branches 



CHRISTMAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIKS 



by the parents. Sometimes the tree has no deeo- 
rations — no eandles. no popctirn strint;s, no shin)- 
halls. After the presents are taken off and ::;i\'en 
to the ehildren, the tree remains perfeetl)- hare. 
There is usually a short entertainment of recita- 
tions and songs, and a speech or t\\'o perhaps, and 
then the Httle folks, carrying- their presenls with 
them, go hack to their homes. 

IN NEW MEXICO 

In certain parts of New 
Mexico, among the old Span- 
ish settlements, the celebra- 
tion of Christmas begins more 
than a -week before the day. 
In the evenings, a party of 
men and women go together 
to the house of some friend — 
a diiTerent house being visited 
each evening. When they ar- 
rive, thev knock on the door 
and begin to sing, and -when 
those in the house ask "Who 
is there?" thev repl\- : "The 
Virgin !Mary and St. Joseph 
seek lodgings in \-our house." 
At first the inmates of the 
house refuse to let them in. 
This is done to carry out the 
Bible story of Joseph and 
Mary being unable to find 
lodgings in Bethlehem. But 
in a little while the door is 
opened and the visitors are 
heartily welcomed. As soon 
as they enter, thev kneel and 
repeat a short praver ; ai-id 
when the devotional exercises 
are concluded, the rest of the 
evening is spent in merrv- 
making. 

On Christmas eve the peo- 
ple of the village gather to- 
gether in some large room or 
hall and give a solemn little 
play, commemorating the birth- 
day of the Saviour. One end 
of the room is used as a stage, 
and this is fitted up to repre- 
sent the stable and the man- ^ 

ger; and the characters in the 
sacred story of Bethlehem- 
Mary and Joseph, the shepherds, the wise men, 
and the angels — are represented in the tableaux, 
and with a genuine, reverential spirit. Even the 
poorer people take part in these Christmas plays. 



AM0N(; THE SHAKERS 

Tni' Shakers obscr\-e Chrisd-iias by a dinner at 
which the men and women both sit down at the 
same table. This eiistum of theirs is the thing 
that serves to make Christmas dilTerent frum any 
other da)- amnng the Shakers. I)in-ing all the 
rest of the \-ear the men and winiien eat tl-icir 
meals at sep;irate tables. 

At sunset on Christmas d;iy, after a service in 
the church, they nitircli to the community-house, 




CIIiilSTMAS IN -rilE SOUTH. 

where the dinner is waiting. The men sit on one 
side of the table and the w-onien on the other. At 
the bead sits an old man called the elder, w-bo 
begins the meal by saying grace, after w-hich each 



76 



CHRISTMAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES 



one in turn gets up and, lifting the right hand, 
says in a solemn voice, "God is love." The din- 
ner is eaten in perfect silence. Not a voice is 
heard until the meal conies to an end. Then the 
men and women rise and sing, standing in their 
places at the table. As the singing proceeds they 
mark time with their hands and feet. Then their 
bodies begin to swav from side to side in the 
peculiar manner that has 
given this sect its name of 
Shakers. 

When the singing comes 
to an end, the elder chants 
a prayer, after which the 
men and women silently 
file out and leave the build- 
ing. 

AMOXG THE PENNSYLVANIA 
GERMANS 

"You 'd better look out, or 



IN PORTO RICO 

The Porto Rican boys and girls would be fright- 
ened out of their wits if Santa Claus should come 
to them in a sleigh drawn by reindeer and should 
try to enter the houses and fill their stockings 
Down there, Santa Claus does not need reindeer 
or any other kind of steeds, for the children say 



Pelznickel will catch 



you ! 



This is the dire threat held 
out to naughty boys and 
girls at Christmas-time in 
some of the country settle- 
ments of the Pennsylvania 
Germans, or Pennsylvania 
Dutch, as they are often 
called. 

Pelznickel is another 
name for Santa Claus. But 
he is not altogether the 
same old Santa that we 
welcome so gladly. On 
Christmas eve some one in 
the neighborhood imper- 
sonates Pelznickel by dress- 
ing up as an old man with 
a long white beard. Arm- 
ing himself with a switch 
and carrying a bag of toys 
over his shoulder, he goes 
from house to house, where 
the children are expecting 
him. 

ITe asks the parents how 
the little ones have behaved 
themselves during the year. 
To each of those who have 
been good he gives a pres- 
ent from his bag. But— 
woe betide the naughty ones I These are not only 
supposed to get no presents, but Pelznickel 
ratches them by the collar and playfully taps 
:hem with his switch. 




A VISIT FKOM PELZNICKEL. 

that he just comes along through the air like a 
bird. Neither does he bother himself looking for 
stockings, for such things are not so plentiful in 
Porto Rico as they are in cooler climates. In- 



CHRISTMAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES 



77 



ftead of stocking-s, llio cIiiKlrcn use little boxes, 

which the\- make themseUes. These the\ place 

on the roofs ami in the euurt\anls. and old Santa 

Glaus drops the gills into 

them as he flies around at 

night with his bag on his 

back. 

He is more generous in 
Porto Rico than he is any- 
where else, lie does not 
come on Christmas e\'e 
only, but is likely to call 
around every night or two 
during the week. Each 
morning, therefore, the lit- 
tle folks run out eagerly to 
see whether anything more 
has been left in their boxes 
during the night. 

Christmas in Porto Rico 
is a church festival of 
much importance, and the 
celebration of it is made up 
chiefly of religious cere- 
monies intended to com- 
memorate the principal 
events in the life of the 
Saviour. Beginning with 
the celebration of his birth, 
at Christmas-time, the 
feast-days follow one an- 
other in rapid succession. 
Indeed, it may justly be 
said that they do not really 
come to an end until Easter. 

One of the most popular 
of these festival-days is that 
known as Bethlehem day. 
This is celebrated on the 
I2th of Januarv, in mem- 
ory of the coming of the 
Magi. The celebration con- 
sists of a procession of 
children through the streets 
of the town. The foremost 
three, dressed in flowing 
robes to represent the wise 
men of the East, come rid- 
ing along on ponies, holding in their hands the 
gifts for the infant King; following them come 
angels and shepherds and flute-pla)'ers, all repre- 
sented by children dressed in pretty costumes and 
carrying garlands of flowers. 

AMONG THE MORAVIANS 

For many days before Christmas the Moravian 



house\\i\"es in i'.elhU'lHiii. PennSN Kania, are busy 
in their kitchens making ■^ni>i\ Ihini^s f(jr the holi- 
days— mint -cakes, [icpper-nuts, Kiiiiiincltn'OLl, 




CHKISTM.^S IN AL.-\S 



sugar-cake, nnnce-pies, and, nicst important of 
all, large quantities of "Christmas cikes." ddiese 
Christmas cakes are a kind of ginger cook}-, crisp 
and sjiicy, and are maile according to a recipe 
knuwn only to the Mnravians. They are made 
in all sorts of curious shapes-birds, horses, 
bears, lions, fishes, turtles, stars, leaves, and 
funny little men ami wdmeii ; so that they are not 
only good to eat, but are ornamental as well, and 



78 



CHRISTMAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIP:S 



are often used b}' the good fathers and mothers 
as decorations for the "Puts." 

Every Moravian family has its Puts at Christ- 
mas-time. This consists of a Christmas tree sur- 
rounded at its base by a miniature landscape 
made up of moss and greens and make-beheve 
rocks, and adorned with toy houses and tiny 
fences and trees and ah sorts of little animals 
and tuy people. 



On Christmas eve a love-feast is held in the 
church. The greater part of the service is de- 
\'oted to music, for which the Moravians have 
always been noted. While the choir is singin? 
cake and coffee are brought in and served to all 
the members of the congregation, each one re- 
ceiving a good-sized bun and a large cup of cof- 
fee. Shortly before the end of the meetin? 
lighted wax candles carried on large trays are 








* «o 



I ^'^ 'y 



h-t^' \ W wM <W\ -c^'^J* 






M ' 'J- m 







;"5- 




.V7:f) :--^l 



y'. I 



BETHLEHEM D.=vY IN PORTO KICO. 



CHRISTMAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES 



brought into the church, b\' 
men on one side and women 
on the other, and passed 
around to the Httle folks- 
one for each boy and girl. 
This is meant to represent 
the coming- of the Light into 
the world, and is but one of 
the many beautiful customs 
observed by the Moravians. 

IX ALASKA 

"Goixo around with the 
star" is a popular Christmas 
custom among some of the 
natives of Alaska who belong 
to the Greek Church. A 
large figure of a star, co\'- 
ered with brightlv colored 
paper, is carried about at 
night by a procession of men 
and women and children. 
They call at the homes of 
the well-to-do families of 
the village, marching about 
from house to house, headed 
by the star-bearer and two 
men or boys carr\'ing lan- 
terns on long poles. Thev 
are warmly welcomed at 
each place, and are invited 
to come in and have some 
refreshments. After eniov- 
ing the cakes and other good 
things, and singing one or 
two carols, they take up the 
star and move on to the next 
house. 

These processions take place each night dur- 
ing Christmas week; but after the second night 
the star-bearers are followed by men and l-io_\-s 
dressed in fantastic clothes, who try to catch the 
star-men and destroy their stars. This part oi 
the game is supposed to be an imitation of the 
soldiers of Herod trying to destroy the children 
of Bethlehem: but these happy folks of Alaska 
evidently don't think much about its meaning, for 
they make a great frolic of it. Everybody is full 
of fun, and the frosty air of the dark wiiUer 
nights is filled with laughter as men and boys and 
romping girls chase one another here and there 
in merry excitement. 

IX' HAWAII 

The natives of Hawaii say that Santa Clans 
comes over to the islands in a boat. Perhaps he 



79 







does: it would 1:ie a tedious irmrnuv for his rein- 
deer to make withrmt stupjiing f n im .San Eran- 
cisco to Ilunolulu. At all events, he gets there 
by sr.me means or other, fur he would not neglect 
the little frilks of those islands awav C'Ut in the 
Pacific. 

llie\- look for him as eagerly as do the Iiovs 
and girls in the lands of snow and ice, and al- 
thriugh it must almost melt him to get around in 
that warm climate with his furs L)n, he never 
misses a Christmas. 

Before the missionaries and the .American set- 
tlers went to Hawaii, the nati\-es knew iiLithing 
about Christmas, but now they all celebrate the 
ila.y. and do it, of course, in the same wa\- as the 
.Americans who live there. The n]ain difference 
between Christmas in Honolulu and Christmas in 
New A'ork is that in Honolulu in December the 
weather is like June in New York. Birds are 



80 



CHRISTMAS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES 



warbling- in the leafy trees ; gardens are over- 
flowing with roses and carnatinns; iields and 
niountani slopes are ahlaze with color; and a 
sunn\- sk\' smiles dreamily upon the glories of a 



Christmas customs among the people are nearly 
all of a religious character, for most of them con- 
sist of little plays or dramas founded upon the 
life of the Saviour. 










CHKISTMAi IX llAWAI 



summer dav. In the morning people go to church, 
and during the dav there are sports and games 
and merr\-making of all surls. The Christmas 
dinner is eaten out of doors in the shade of the 
veranda, and everybodv is happv and contented. 

IX' THE I'lIILIPnXES 

BucJias pasqiias ! This is the hearty greeting 
that comes to the dweller in the Philippines on 
Christmas morning; and with it, perhaps, an of- 
fering of flowers. 

The Filijjino, like the Porto Rican and all 
others who have lived under Spanish rule, looks 
upon Christmas as a great religious festival, and 
one that rc'|uircs very special attention. On 
Christmas eve the churches are open, and the 
coming of the great day is celebrated by a mass 
at midnight ; and during all of Christmas day 
mass is held every hour, so that everv one mav 
have an opportunity to attend. Even the popular 



These plays are called pasforcs," and are per- 
formed by bands of young men and women, and 
sometimes mere boys and girls, who go about 
from village to village and present their simple 
little plays to expectant audiences at every stop- 
ping-place. The visit of the wise men, the flight 
into Egvpt — these and many other incidents as 
related in the Scriptures are acted in these pas- 
torcs. Sometimes, by way of variety, the sacred 
scenes are interspersed wdth dancing and the 
singing of popular songs ; and sometimes the vil- 
lage band will play a few airs at intervals; aUo- 
gether the performances are very entertaining 
and are always very much enjoyed. 

On moonlight nights during the Christmas holi- 
days the young people hold merry gatherings out 
in the open air, wdiere they dance and play and 
sing amid the delicious perfumes of glorious 
night-blooming flowers and the balmy breezes of 
a tropic land. 




ii?i^t-maf^tt|>l -J 



f (E5*tili« 3«tt^ox\ %ti\m 





^f^itiTa-^ fDf*(^^»la C^isitt 





83 




84 



CV3 c_g^^^,^ 



3^?ij>#4 



YULE-TIDE TALES l^OR LLFTLE EOLK 



A CHRISTMAS FAIRV-TALE 

BY E. A. WATSOX HYDE 



'iS^\ 




He stood on the curbstone all alone. 

Such a little bo}' ! 
The men passed by, and the women too ; 
The banana man, and policeman blue ; 
And nobody cared— for nobody knew 
That the little boy's heart was sad, all tlirouch — 
It was Christmas Eve, with so much to do ! 

Where had she gone — the baby girl 

He had left at play 
While he crossed the street to the grocery-store 
Where he 'd earned a quarter the day before? 
She had promised true, in her baby drawl, 
That she would n't stir from the tenement hall 

While he went for his "pay." 
How grand that sounded, — just like a man ! 
Now his plan was ruined, his beautiful plan! 

He thought of the mother alone up-stairs 

In the big white bed 
Where she 'd Iain so long since the day she fell 
That it seemed sornetimes she could not get well. 



The doctor came, and a mn'se each week, 
r.ut he knew li\- the quiet \\a\- they 'd speak 

That the awful dread — 
A fear which they did not like to name- 
A\'as in their thoughts each tune the\- came. 

How could he go and tell her now 

That her child was lost? 
That he 'd broken faith and betraved her trust; 
Could he bear to tell her? yet tell he nnist. 
Instead of the wonderful Christmas Day 
lie had plaimed for them both in his eager way. 

This was the cnst : 
.And far, far \\orse tlian her pain, this Idow 
Would be to tlie mrither he cherished so. 

Two slow tears welled in (he big bkr. t ves. 

As he stood and thi.ugnt; 
Such marvelous things he had planned to do: 
He would liuy her an orange, — some pop-corn too ; 
A Christmas card with an angel's head. 
And a doll for the baby, with ribbons red ; 

Why, those few things bought 
Would make such a Christmas as had not come 
For three long years to the little home ! 

The tears splashed down and were brushed away; 

He 'd no time to cry. 
lie must find the bab\', whatever came. 
So he stepped back softly and called her name 
Under the stairs and along the hall 
And out at the back to the old brick wall 

So bare and high ; 
There was nowhere to hide, had the child in pla}- 
Attempted to hide herself away. 

He asked the neighbors on either hand. 

And tliev crowded round, 
i\ll tender hearted and murnniring jirayers 
For the gentle wijman alone up-slairs. 
For the manly hoy — his mother's stay — 
And the baby sister who 'd slipped away 

And could not be found. 
They searched the alley, the area-wa\', 
.And questioned the children who 'd been at play. 



86 



YULE-TIDE TALES FOR LITTLE FOLK 



The big policeman might know — but look 1 

A stir in the street ! 
A jangling of bells and of silver chains; 
Two prancing horses with tossing manes; 
A crimson sleigh as big as a room; 
Great bearskin coats on 
footman and groom; 
And there on the 
seat, 
The loveliest lady that 

ever smileil, 
And, beside her the 
dear little missing 
child! 

Her face peeped out 

from a big white rug 
Like a sweet wild 
rose ; 
And in her arms was a 

doll in blue. 
With flowers in its hat, 

and feathers too ; 
And the floor and the 

seats were covered 

deep 
With toys and parcels 

— a fairy heap ; 
How do you sup- 
pose 

That baby sister so real 

could seem? 
'VVhenitw/zi'5/bc adream, 

a beautiful dream! 

But no dream it was, for 

she called to him 
With a shout of 
joy. 
And the lovely lady 

went up the stair 
And talked with the 

mother suffering 

there ; 
And the toys and parcels 

were taken, too; 
They were all for them, 

— itwasreallytrue ! 
But it seemed to 

the boy 

That the lady's face, as she left the hall 
And smiled upon him, was best of all. 

"You must n't thank me," she whispered low 

"I am glad I came. 
I do it at Christmas-time, you know. 
For my baby daughter— I loved her so. 



She was taken away, so each Christmas Day 
I make some one happy in just this way 

In her dear name. 
I '11 send a doctor and nurse to-night ; 
Don't worry, dear ; it will all come right." 




He stood on the curb and watched her go. 

Did the little boy. 
The men passed by, and the women too; 
The banana man, and policeman blue; 
And nobody cared — for nobody knew— 
That the little boy's dreams had all come true! 
It was Christmas Eve, with so much to do ! 



Christmas Without the Christmas Tree 

By May Snyder 



Aunt Mandv's 
tion as she put 
Christmas tree. 



face beamed with satisfac- 
the tinishing tuuclies to her 
She laughed suftlv. Ne^•er 




in all her experience had she trimmed such 

a tree as this. And she had trimmed many. 

"Well, sah! no ojie nebber made Christmas 



trees ciut'n umberells in my time," said Aunt 
Mandy, "but them chiUun's boun' to hab 
sumpin' tu liang dey praisents on, an dat sho 
am jes' a hifalutin 
treel" She stood with 
her hands on her hips 
and surveyed the tree 
intently. 

The frame of the 
old umbrella spiread 
its bare ribs above an 
empty soap box to 
\\hich the handle had 
been rudely fastened. 
Strmgs of popcorn and 
cranberries afforded 
the princijial decora- 
tions, while cookies, 
apples and sticks of 
candy were suspended 
liy strings of various 
kinds and colors. The 
presents consisted of 
mysterious looking bun- 
dles of many shapes 
and sizes. 

.Vunt Mandy had 
worked long and pa- 
tientlv, and now she 
turned away, saying as 
she closed the door be- 
hind her; "Clar' to 
goodness, hit do look 
mighty scrumptious — 
'deed hit do !" 

Only a few hours 
more, and the tree in 
all its grandeur would 
be displayed. Never 
had there been such 
excitement in Aunt 
Mandy's cabin. The 
pickaninnies, dressed in 
their Sunday-best, in- 
dulged in low whispers 
and smothered giggles. 
I^ven the perky bows 
on 'Liza's and Maria's pigtails seemed to stir 
with life and quiver with eagerness. 

Supper over, Uncle Mose led the way to 



88 



YULE-TIDE TALES EOR LLITLE FOLK 



the best room. As he threw open the door, 
a shout went up from the delighted picka- 
ninnies. 

"Chillun," said Lhicle Mose. with a low 
bow and a flourish of the hand, "on dis nios' 
'spicuous 'casion, yo' suttinly hab a lubbly 
tree to celebrate yo' Krismus day. An' I 
will now recede to constribute yo' praisents. 

"Fust, foahmos', an' to begin wid, I 
puhsent vo', George W'asliington Lincoln 
Harrison Grant, wid a pair o' skates, from 
yo' lubbin manmiy. 

"An vo', 'Rastus Robinson Carter Keller, 
gits a football from yo' 'fectionate daddy. 

"Liza Jane Arabella Helen, git right up 
on yo' feet an' make yo' bow. I puhsent 
yo' wid a bran' new dress from yo' lubbin 
mammy. 

"Maria Melissa A\'allace A\'inifred, what 
vo' gwine to say to yo' mammy when yo' 
'cepts dis bonnet, de work ob her lubbin 
ban's? Now, chillun, yo' can walk up an' 
he'p yo'se'fs. De 'freshments am free an' ma- 
licious." 

With a wild howl the voungsters made a 
rush for the spreading tree. "Dey's mo' 
praisents!" "Crollv, what 's dis?" "Hue- 
come dis heah?" "De tree 's ben'in' over!" 
"Hob on!" were the exclamations that came 
crowding one upon another. Then the up- 



roar became deafening, and the Christmas 
frolic was on. 

I'ncle Mose stood for a moment in happy 
contemplation, then his eyes fell on Aunt 
Mandy's smiling face. "Mandy Mehitable 
Sonora Frances Somers," he said, "yo' 's a 
'ficient woman. I nebah 'predated yo' 
'strabagance an' he'plessness befo', an' I 's 
glad, 'deed I is, honey — 'case I nevah 
'spected hit." LIncle Mose bowed, waved 
his hands airily and took his seat. The per- 
spiration stood in beads on his forehead, but 
his smile did not vanish. Christmas cheer 
was stirring in his heart, and Christmas angels 
were hovering over the little cabin. 

When the clock on the mantel struck the 
midnight hour, doors were locked, lights 
snuffed out and silence fell upon the happy 
home. Little black faces smiled up from 
soft, white pillows, for their dreams were 
sweet that Christmas night. Aunt Mandy 
felt well repaid for all her extra care and 
trouble, and Uncle Mose, wearied with his 
speech-making, soon fell asleep. 

The old umbrella, bare and forlorn, stood 
in the darkened corner, stretching its bent 
ribs into vacancy. It had fulfilled its mis- 
sion. Christmas without a tree and Christ- 
mas with an umbrella was a success in Aunt 
Mandy's cabin. 




The Dear OldTree 

BY LUELLA WILSON SMITH 





here s a 
dear old tree, 
an evergreer) 
tree, 

^ pod it blossoms 
once a yean 

§ 'Xis loaded 
with fruit froip 
top to root, 
(^nd it brings to 
Dll 0ood cheer 



i lor its blossoms 

bright are smdl 

candles white 

^nd its fruit is 

dolls and toys. 

^nd the/ all are 

free for both 

you and me 

If were good little 

girls ^ boys 



ESTHER'S CHRISTMAS 

BY GWENDOLEN OVERTON 



"There 's a wagon coming!" Esther announced 
excitedly. "It 's the one from the fort with the 
things for the Christmas tree." 

Her mother came to stand beside her in the 
door of the cabin. At any time a passing wagon 
was of interest, here in the heart of the western 
mountains, but to-day it was more than ever an 
event ; for a long winter rain had put a stop to 
almost all travel; it had lasted through two cold 
and dreary weeks, and not 
until this Christmas morning 
had there been a glimpse of 
blue sky for a fortnight. 

"The roads must have 
been very bad," said Mrs. 
Lawton. "It was twelve 
days ago that they went by, 
and they ought to have made 
the trip to the railroad and 
back in a week." 

A month ago Esther had 
ridden over with her father 
to Fort Pcdrozo to spend 
the day with Alice Shan- 
non, who was just her own 
age, and the daughter of a 
person called the cpiartcr- 
master-sergeant. And Alice 
had told her wonderful tales 
about a party she and Netta 
Anderson were going to have 
on Christmas night in the 
amusement hall. It was to 
be for the soldiers' children, 
and there would be dolls and 
toys and candy and beauti- 
ful ornaments. Ahce had 
said that she and Netta had 
worked for a long time mak- 
ing some of the things, and 
send East for others that they could not make 

Ever since then Esther had thought about it, 
imagining what it would be like, wishing that she 
herself could see it. She spent long hours fancy- 
ing herself going to a party and being sur- 
rounded by other children. Eor she was very 
lonely all by herself in her home in the for- 
est, where her only playfellows were her dog and 
her horse, and sometimes a young Indian. 

Once she had talked about it, but it had made 
her mother cry. So Esther had been careful not 
to speak of it again. And this morning she had 



done her best to seem delighted with the new 
bridle and the dress and the necklace of Indian 
beads, which she had found by the fireplace. But 
immediately after breakfast her father had had 
to take advantage of the fine weather and ride 
away to another ranch. He would be gone until 
night. So she and her mother were left by 
themselves, and it did not promise to be a very 
merry Christmas day for a young girl. 




earning money to 



"AND THEN ESTHER RODE OFF. 

"I wish Henry would stop and see us," she 
said softly. There was more wistfulness in the 
tone than she knew, and the tears came again 
into her mother's eyes. "Oh !" cried Esther, fling- 
ing her arms about Mrs. Lawton's neck, "I did n't 
mean to make you feel badly. I 'm not so very 
lonesome." 

Her own lip was quivering and her mother 
smiled bravely and stooped to kiss the upturned 
face. 

At that instant the loud cracking of a whip 
made them both start. It was followed by an- 
other and another, and then by the shouting of a 



YULK -'I'IDE ']'.\1,KS VoR l.ir-|l,K Fol.K 



91 



man's voice. The wagon, which both of thcni 
had momentarily forgotten, was not in sight, and 
the truth flashed upon Esther. "They 're in the 
ravine! And I should n't wonder if the\- can't 
get out." The shouts and the cracks of the whip 
were repeated. "I 'm going to see," said Esther, 
turning into the house. She came back, wearing 
a pair of bov's boots that met her skirts at the 
knee, and she plodded otT thrruigh the soft 
ground, disappearing into the ra\dne. 

When she reappeared Henr\' was with her. 
He had often stopped into the cabin as he drcxc 
his teams to and from the post ; and to people 
whose lives were so isolated, he seemed almost 
an intimate friend. 

"We 're stuck in the mud," he said to Mrs. 
Lawton. "I '11 have to stay here till to-morrow. 
There 's an ambulance coming down from 
Stone's ranch then that can help us pull out. I 
guess you '11 have to give me my Christmas din- 
ner." 

A guest less pleasant than the frank-faced 
young soldier would have l.)ccn only too wel- 
come; but Esther's thoughts went suddenh- to 
iS'etta Anderson and Alice and all the children at 
the fort. "Are n't the things for the Christmas 
tree in the wagon?" she asked. 

"Yes, they are," he told her ; "and it 's too 
bad." 

"Alice will be so dreadfulh- disappointed," she 
protested; "and they worked so hard!" 

Henry nodded. "But it can't be helped. If the 
roads had been all right we would have been 
back four or five days ago. I know they 're get- 
ting anxious, too. Colonel Anderson telegraphed 
to Stone's ranch yesterday to find out where wc 
were. I wired that we 'd be along this afternoon, 
sure. If there was any way of doing it I 'd let 
him know so he could send for the things." 

Esther had the imagination of a child whf) has 
always relied upon itself for interests, and she 
could feel for the others as though the disappoint- 
ment had been her own. She sat considering, 
her eyes on the soldier's face. "Wdiy don't }-ou 
ride one of the mules and take the things in?" 

"There are about nine hundred pounds of stuff 
in that wagon," he informed her. 

Esther gasped. "All for the tree?" 

He laughed. "Not quite ; about eight hundred 
and fifty is supplies and feed." 

"Well, you could ride one mule and pack all 
there is for the tree on another." 

He shook his head. "They 're not riding or pack- 
animals, and a mule does n't like following any 
profession but his own. Besides, I 'm in charge 
of the wagon. If I was to leave it I 'd get into 
trouble. A soldier must always obey orders." 



Esther sat in thought for some moments again. 
Then she asked: "Why cduld n't / take the 
things?" .and as the SDldirr ;iiid her mother began 
tn smile, she urged her plan. "We could put 
llieni (in j.ake. Jake 's (nir little white pack- 
mule," she ex|dained tu Ileiir)'; "and I could ride 
liillw ' .She east eager hidks from one to the 
other. "I could do it just as well as not." 

'dt 's eight miles," Henry reminded. 

",\s if I ciiuld n't ride sixteen miles in a day!" 
.She had coxered thirty and forty often, and once 
fifty. 

"The roads are in bad shape." 

"Xot between here and the post. They never 
are, except in one or two places, and there are 
trails around those; and the ford is n't so very 
high," she displayed her knowdedge of the coun- 
try. "I could be back before dark." 

Henr}- turned to Mrs. Lawton. "Would you 
be wdlling she should do it?" he asked. 

Esther gave an audible sigh of relief as her 
mother answered that there did not seem to be 
any reason against it. .Vll her life Esther had 
wandered on horseback o\'er the mountains, as 
freelv as a child of more ci\'ilizcd districts might 
have ridden in a park, and it seemed nothing now 
to alleiw her t(i go a small matter of eight miles. 

So it was not Imig before Jake was equipped 
witli his pack-saddle ami precious freight. He was 
led to the ravine and there loaded with all the 
packages which were addressed to Miss Netta 
.\nderson. "^'^u '11 have to tighten that pack 
now and then," the suldier said. "Do you think 
you can ?" Esther was sure that she could. She 
had often helped her father pack. 

Wdien at length she was mounted on her pony 
and read\- to start, Henry looked a little dubious. 
"He 's feeling pretty fresh, Jake is," he warned. 
Esther called back her assurance that she was 
quite equal to the ta.sk she had undertaken. And 
then she rude off, still wearing her big muddy 
boots, and well wrapped from the cold air in an 
old coat of her father's. 

But her ability to manage Jake was soon put 
to the [troof. For the first two or three miles 
the road was heavy, anrl he plodded along beside 
Billy quietly enough. y\ll at once, however, he 
shied violently at an old, deserted tepee which he 
had passed countless times before without so 
much as jjricking up his ears. It was all the 
excuse for excitement that her own pony needed. 
He too gave a jump asifle. Then his head went 
down, and with a little squeal of meanness, he 
began to buck. He was doing his very bicst to 
unseat his rider, and there was no question of 
keeping hoM of the pack-mule's rope. Jake 
pulled away. When Billy had finished bucking 



92 



YULE-TIDE TALES FOR LITTLE FOLK 



he had gone a hundred yards ahead. LIntil Es- 
ther came close by him he paid no attention to 
her; but wiien she was just near enough to grasp 
the rope, he gave a quick jump and started ofT at 
a trot She followed him The trot grew faster. 
She tried the effect of bring- 
ing Billy to a walk. Instantly 

Jake stopped short. But the / - 

moment she moved, he too 
advanced. If he had kept to 
the road it would not have 
mattered, but his preference 
was for wandering farther 
and farther away from it ; 
and he was brushing the pack 
against the low branches of 
trees with great danger of 
its coming loose. Besides, 
the creek was not far ahead, 
and he was going off along 
a cattle trail which led to a 
place where the fording was 
good in summer, but was 
dangerous now in winter 
after the long rains. 

"Whoa, Jake!" Esther 
called, growing frightened. 
"Whoa there !" Jake began 
to trot. "Whoa!" she cried 
despairingly. But Jake with 
mulish determination kept 
on. He reached the edge of 
the rushing torrent, whose 
noise completely drowned 
Esther's frantic shouts. For 
an instant he hesitated. Then 
he went into the water. It 
came to his knees, to his 
flanks, to the edge of his 
pack ! Esther gave a wail 
of distress. He had lost his 
footing! He was flounder- 
ing, he was swimming. The 
current was sweeping him 
down and down. 

Esther thought of the 
Christmas presents, but she 

thought still more of what it would mean to 
her father to lose his only pack-animal; and she 
did not stop to realize that there was nothing she 
could do to prevent it. Her one idea was to get 
near enough to catch the rope and try to pull 
Jake to safe ground. She brought her quirt 
down upon Billy. "Go on!" she commanded. 
There was a splash, a scramble, a sensation of 
everything going from under them ; and the next 
instant she felt that Billy was swimming. He 



was keeping his head up-stream as well as he 
could ; but he too was being overpowered by the 
current, and the leafless willows on the shore 
seemed to sweep by with alarming swiftness 
How long it lasted Esther did not know, but 




THERE W.-\S A SPLASH A,ND A SCRAMBLE." 

she felt a shock as Billy's hoofs touched ground. 
With three wild springs he brought himself up 
an almost perpendicular bank and stopped short, 
trembling, exhausted. Esther slid from her sad- 
dle and sank upon the earth. She was weak with 
fright. For the moment she had forgotten Jake. 
When she remembered him she jumped up m 
new terror, looking about. 

The sight that met her eyes was a small white 
mule lying on its side. "Oh!" she came out with 



YULE-TIDE TALES EoR LLl'TLE LoLK 



9J 



a wail of grief. "He 's dead ! He 's tlrnd !" Slie 
started toward him, leading- the pon\-; hut as she 
came near she saw the stilt legs nio\-e feehly. 
Jake was not dead — not even d\ing-. lie had 
merely fallen as he hail struggled up the hank 
out of the river. And the clumsy pack had kept 
him from rising. 

Esther had seen fallen pack-animals before, 
and she knew that there was but one thing to do 
if one were alone, and not ^-erv strong. — one nnist 
take oft the pack. She could manage that. P.ut 
could she put it back again? It was out of the 
question to return to the cabin or go on to the 
fort for help. Some Indian or Mexican nnght 
come along and take the pack and Jake as we 
and no one was in sight. Xot even an Apache. 

"I '11 have to do it alone," she decided, almost 
despairingly. But there was no help for it. 

Over and over as the day wore on, she was 
upon the point of giving it up. Her arms ached 
and her back hurt. Twice, when the bundles all 
fell off she sat down and cried, ddi 
low when she finally flung 
the cinch over the pack and 
buckled it. And a curious pack 
it was. "You 're so lump\-. 
Jake," she laughed, half tear- 
fully; "and if }-ou trot you dl 
tumble to pieces." 

She was worrying very much 
about getting home to her 
mother, as they plodded along. 
Presently they came in sight of 
the fort, and then Esther heard 
the retreat gun. It was sunset 
and the air was bitterlv cold. 
Here and there the fire of an 
Indian camp glowed. The 
dogs came snarling and sniffing 
about. Strange dogs ahva^-s 
disturbed Jake. And he showed 
signs of uneasiness. But it was 
not until they were within half 
a mile of the post that he 
became again unmanageable. 
Then five or six curs rushed out 
under his hoofs, barking and 
snapping. Without warning he 
let his heels fly. There was an anguished yelp- 
ing from the dogs, the leading rope was once 
more jerked from Esther's hands, and Jake 
was off at a runaway gallop, luckily heading for 
the fort, but with the dogs giving chase. 

The pack swayed and pitched. Esther, follow- 
ing her fastest, could only hope that Jake would 
reach the fort before it should fall'. He was 
keeping to the road; he had gone through the 



gate of the rescrvati 
ticall)-, the p;ick .-iliii 
h.slhcr saw a man riding ti 
siddier on a big c,i\ah-\' horse, 
swerx'cd. The pack touched the 
his hdcifs. i'.ul the eavalr\nian 



n fence, still galloping fran- 

st read)' to drag. And then 

w.'ird him. It was a 

Jake hesitated, 

ground beneath 

leaning far out 




IT IS YOUK TREE SUW, F.^K MORE TIHN IT IS THEIRS. 



of his saddle 
he stood still 



had caught liini bv the halter, and 



After that, wonderful and surprising things 
happened so fast (hat Esther \vas too licwildered 
to even feel the fatigue of her iourney. 

The mounted guard took her into the fort. An 
officer was coming ilown the walk; the guard 
halted and saluted. "Here 's a young lady, Colo- 



94 



YULE -TIDE TALES FOR LITTLE FOLK 



nel," he reported gravely. "She 's brought the 
Christmas tree things on this mule." 

Colonel Anderson questioned her for a minute. 
Then he put out his arms, lifted her from the 
horse, gave some orders to the guard, and led her 
up to the big house from whose windows shone 
brilliant lights. He opened the door and she was 
being taken into a hall hung with evergreens and 
mistletoe. 

Suddenly Esther thought of the big boots she 
was wearing. "My boots are so muddy!" she 
protested, drawing back. "Never mind your 
boots," the Colonel answered, and then he called : 
"Netta! IMother!" Somebody answered and there 
appeared before Esther's dazzled eyes a young 
girl in a white dress, and a marvelous lady about 
whose throat and in whose hair glittered some- 
thing more bright than any Apache beads. Es- 
ther stood before them, a mud-bespattered small 
figure in a faded blue coat much too large for 
her, and with boy's boots that came to her knees. 

"Here 's the little courier from Lawton's 
ranch," the Colonel was saying. "She has 
brought the things for your tree on her own 
pack-mule. And she 's had a pretty hard time." 

The young girl and the lady took her into a 
big room where there were dolls and toys and 
marvelous things strewn all about. There were 
other children, too — who crowded near her, as 
she sat in a chair before the fire. Every one 
asked her questions at once. She did her best to 
answer, but at last she was tired and confused. 



In the midst of it all she remembered her 
mother. She started up quickly. "I niust m 
home!" she said. "Mother will be so frio-htened" 
and she was already moving toward the door 
but ]\Irs. Anderson laid a hand on her shoulder.' 

"There 's a messenger on the way to your 
mother, now," she told her. "He will let her 
know that you are safe, and that you are goin? 
to stay with us .^or Christmas dinner. Netta 
wants you to spend a few days with her." 

Could it possibly be true? To stay in this 
splendid house, with all these toys and children 
to play with ! Then her eyes clouded quickly 
and she hung her head. "My boots," she said 
only just audibly. "And I have n't my new 
dress." 

"Netta has all you will need, dear," Mrs. An- 
derson reassured her. 

Esther hesitated uncertainly. Then there came 
gradually into her mind a possibility surpassing 
any of the incredible things that had happened 
yet. "Do you suppose," she gathered courage to 
ask, "do you suppose they 'd let me just look at 
their Christmas tree?" 

In her weather-stained old coat and her muddy 
big boots she was being taken into Mrs. Ander- 
son's arms. The head with its shining things 
was bending over her. "You dear little girl," a 
trembling voice was saying; "you dear little girl. 
Of course you must look at it; of course you 
must help with it. It is your tree now, far more 
than it is theirs." 



CHRISTMAS ASHES 



BY EDITH M. THOMAS 



Yule-tide logs are burning low, 
Twelfth-night soon his face will show, 
And those sober days eome in. 
When the Year's work we begin. 

But the ashes — save them all 
On your hearthstone as they fall ; 
Christmas ashes have a charm 
That can fend away much harm. 

Housewives, take the precious drift 
And among your linens sift, 
'Mid your wool and silken cloths, 
So to keep them free from moths. 

Cast the ashes white and soft 

Round the byre and through the croft. 



Then the younglings of the year— 
Eleece or feathers — need not fear. 

If so be that ye fall ill 
(Far to call on leech's skill), 
Put a pinch of ashes fine 
In your evening ale or wine. 

Holy is the Yule-tide flame; 
And the ashes, just the same: 
Love the Christmas fires did light- 
Love is in their ashes white ! 

Thus, the whole round year we may 
Treasure blessings from this day; 
To our hearts catch up the glow, 
When the Yule log burneth low. 




HERE 's a bustle in the kitchen 
And a rattle and a din, 
And such peculiar goings-on 

You 'd best not venture in; 
The e^^s are bein^ beaten 

And the butter 's being dripped, 
And the flour 's being shaken 

And the cream is being whipped; 
The nuts have had their heads 
cracked, 
The jelly 's all a-quake; 
Outsiders, keep your distance — 
Daisy 's making Christmas 
cake ! 





-»> 



BJaSY 'S BAKlNe <3^MB 




Don't say she 's lost her ribbon 

And her apron 's all awry; 
Don't speak of flour upon her 
nose 
And smut above her eye; 
Don't tell her that the pans 
are n't greased, 
The powder 's quite at fault, 
That the heaping cup of su^ar 
Was a heaping cup of salt; 
Don't mention that the fire is out, 
'T would be a grave mistake — 
Onlookers, keep your distance 
When Daisy 's baking cake! 



^■"-^cy^ 



sgy^ 




V: 



Jli\ 



J<1> 



/ 



y 







The little boy and the little girl had many friends among the animals. There 
was the rabbit, the turtle, and the owl and the proud blue jay and prett)-, cheery 
Robin. The old gray goose and the speckled guinea hen and the quacking duck 
and the strutting rooster and the clucking hens were their friends, too. So were 
the pigeons and the old black crow, and the little, frisky, scampering squirrel. 




98 



YULE-TIDE TALES FOR LITTLE FOLK 



These friends all knew that early NewYear's morning the little girl and the 
little boy would go to the evergreen playhouse for the gift the New Year 
brought. Nobody had ever told the little girl and the little boy that the New 
Year would bring them a gift, but all children know a great many things that 
nobody tells them. 

The evergreen playhouse was a beautiful circle of evergreen trees, with an 
opening on one side for a door. This playhouse had only the sky for a roof, so 
it was very gay and cheerful. A table for play stood in the center of the house. 




the i.tttle eov and the little 

girl find theik new 

year's gifts. 



All these bird and animal friends of the little girl and boy thought it would 
be nice to bring New Year's gifts and lay them on the table in the evergreen 
playhouse — fine, good. New Year's gifts. 

So early New Year's morning the little boy and girl went hand in hand to 
the evergreen house and stood quietly inside the door. 

Then they looked at the table and there they saw all the beautiful New Year's 
gifts. 

"Feathers!" shouted the little boy when he saw what some of the birds had 
brought. "Feathers of all sorts of colors ! I know what I will do. I am going 
to make an Indian war-bonnet that is a war-bonnet ! — a perfect beauty! " 



VUl,K-'ni)K TALKS FOR l.iri'|,|.; 1m)|.k r,,, 

"Oh, see the red g-rains of corn, and the j-elldw trains <if corn!" cried the lit- 
tle girl, as she saw the present the liarnyard fowls had brought, "I '11 strino- 
them for a necklace! " " '^ 

"Oh, goody, look at the nuts!" laughed the little boy, as he saw the nuts the 
squirrel had brought; "won't the}' taste fine!" 

"There 's my littlest doll— the one I lost'" shouted the litde girl. The sharp- 
e)-ed crow had brought it back from his hiding-j)lace. 

"And there 's my lucky penu)!" shouted the little boy. For that rascal of a 
crow had brought that back, too. 

So they laughed over their presents until all their animal friends crept in to see. 




THE LITTI,E BOY AXn THE LITTLE GIKL HAD 
MA.NV FRIENDS AMO.XG THE ANI.MALS. 



^r 



"Come!" cried the little boy, "W'e 'II all have a dance around the table !" 

So around they went; the birds and chickens, the squirrel and the crow, and 
all the friends, squeaking and quacking and crowing and chirping and cawing, 
while the little girl and t)oy sang "la, La, la," to no tune at all, just because they 
were so happy. 

"Mercy, children !" called their mother who came out to the evergreen house 
to see what was going on, "what arc you doing !" 

"Just having fun ! " answered the little boy. 

"Oh, the mostest fun, mama!" called the little girl, " with all our friends!" 




By Kendrick Ferris 

Illustrated by Florence E. Storer 



It had begun way back in November— the 
Sunday after Thanksgiving when Sallie Car- 
ter came in late to church with a gray as- 
trakhan muff. The sermon was too "deep" 
for Vida, who had her hand at her face and 
was ahiiost asleep, when a flash of gray in 
the next pew caused her to turn her head 
ever so slightly, and peep through her chubby 
fingers. There it stood on the velvet cushion 
beside Sallie, trim, warm, and lined with 
pearly gray satin, exactly like Mrs. Carter's 
own beautiful big one, but smaller by half. 
A great longing began to grow in Vida's 
heart, and she peeped again, this time at 
Sallie. Sallie's golden curls had fallen 
riotously over her shoulders, hiding much of 
her face, but Vida could see enough. And 
just then the sermon came to an end. 

But from that day on till the 17th of 
December, Vida thought of nothing but a 
gray muff — how she would look carrying it, 
how it would feel, and how every Sunday 
afternoon she w^ould let poor Dorothy Haines 
carrv it for a whole block, just as she had 
seen generous Sallie lend hers to the little 
lame girl in their Sunday School class. 

C)n the 17th of December a great snow 
fell, and all the earth was white. At night 
the stars came out and the moon was full. 
It was the first snow storm of the winter, 
and Vida, by the light of the blazing logs 
in the nursery fireplace, wrote her annual 
letter to Santa Claus, posting it in the win- 
dowsill. In the morning, sure enough, it 
was gone, and Vida's heart was light. She 
smiled at Sallie from her pew, feeling that 
still another bond was soon to be established 
between them, and, on the way home, found 



and praised new beauties in the gray astra- 
khan muff. And so amidst greater good fel- 
lowship and happy expectations, the anxiously- 
awaited Christmas drew on apace. 




W>^ 



" In the Corner of the Great Hall Sofa, 
Vida Fell Asleep." 

The 25th fell on Sunday that year, and 
Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. 
The long, fat icicles, hanging above the 
nursery window, glistened in the sunlight, 



Vri,E-TTDE TALKS FOR UTTI.E l-Ql.K 



and the nenilock boughs swept the ground 
under their -weight of snow. \'ida and lier 
mother were standing together at the nur- 
sery window as, with a jingle ol nicrr)" bells, 
the Carters' sleigh dro^■e by. \'ida sighed 
contentedly. 

"To-morrow," she said, "/ shall be carr\'- 
ini^ a £;rav astrakhan mutt." 



101 
e\x'r since Santa 



nothing but count on it 
riaus had found hur note. Not count on 
it! Why, Christmas would be nothing with- 
out it ! 

Hut her mother was right — he might for- 
get it among so many thiii-s I Wdiy'diad n't 
she asked for only that one present?' She 
did n't want tliose other things anyway. 




" 'Oh, P.\pa, Pap 



.She Cried Excitedm '-^ee iiirr 



T ( N THE Roof ! 



Her mother locked at her questioningly. 

"Santa Claus will bring it to me," \'ida 
said in answer to the look. 
^Her mother laughed merrily. "Why, 
Vida dear," she said. "You asked Santa 
Claus for seven other things — you said so 
only this morning. You could n't expect 
him to remember them all, and he 's as likely 
to forget the muff as the French doll, or the 
tea set. It 's foolish to count on any one 
thing when you made so long a list. I told 
you to be moderate." And her busy mother 
hurried off in answer to a call from Aunt 
Jane. 

Not count on it! Why, she had done 



and this was the day before Christmas- 
no word could reach Santa now. 

The day parsed feverishlv for \'ida. Up 
stairs and down she ^\-andered from window 
to window, fr(jm person to person — anxious, 
unliappy, impatient. Would the long hours 
ne^•er '^o '. 

At last twilight came, and the darkness 
fell. And ill the corner of the great hall 
sofa, facing the cloek on tlie stairs, Vida, a 
disc(insiilate little body, fell asleep. 

Her mother wakened her when it was time 
to hang up her sto(:king, and then, in spite 
of her warning, and in spite of her long 
hours of worry, hope was born again, and 



102 



YULE 



l)K 'lAl^ES FOR LITTJ.E FOLK 



when Vida kissed her mother good-night, vis- 
ions of gray astrakhan muffs danced in her 
head. 

"Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" 

It seemed to Vida she had but closed her 
eyes, and there stood mother and Aunt Jane 
beside her bed, one witli her little worsted 
shoes and the other with her red eiderdown 
wrapper to hurry her over to the nursery 
where her father stood waiting at the door. 

"Merry Cristmas ! Merry Christmas ! ( )h, 
papa, I said it first.'" she cried laughingly 
as her father caught her in his arms. 

But what had Santa Claus done to the 
nursery? He had decorated the four walls 
and the chandelier with greens ; and in the 
corner opposite the fireplace, he had stood 
a giant Christmas tree, bedecked with glitter- 
ing knickknacks of every description. It was 
wonderful ! 

Vida drew a cpiet breath, and gave a little 
happy exclamation. Then she Hew straight 
to the fireplace — the muff should be there. 

Of the seven presents six were not forgot- 
ten, and there were others she had not asked 
for : a pearl-handled knife in the toe of her 
stocking (she had remembered how much she 
needed a knife only yesterday morning) ; an 
album for her postal cards — why liad n't 
she thought of that? She had over a hundred 
postals that Uncle Jack had sent her — of 
course she wanted an album. A cuckoo 
clock, that even as she looked, flung open its 
little carved doors, and shot out the cuckoo. 
It was seven o'clock. Surely no little girl 
ever had a more beautiful Christmas ! 

But Vida's lips were quivering, and a great 
lump swelled in her throat. The muff — the 
beautiful gray astrakhan muff, was not there ! 
Santa Claus had forgotten it ! 

But Vida was brave. And she would not 
let those who loved her see her cry, or 
suspect her disappointment. She turned away 
from them and went over to the north win- 
dow, fighting with her tears. 

The kitchen roof stretched out under this 
window, and for days now even the print of 
a bird's claw had not broken its mantle of 
white. But now Vida looked at it in wonder- 
ment, for the beautiful crust was sadly 
broken, and a line of tracks ran from the 
edge of the roof, and back to 

"Oh, papa, papa," she cried excitedly, 
"come here, come here right away. See, 
there is something out on the roof !" 



Her father opened the window quickly 
and climbed out. Vida's heart beat so wildly 
she could scarcely speak. Her father was 
picking up a box — it was about the size of 
Aunt Jane's cooky jar, and it was round. 

"Well," her father said, as he climbed 
back laughing into the nursery. "Here 's 
something Old St. Nick dropped, and from 
its size I guess it 's meant for you." 

Vida's hands trembled so she could scarcely 
tug off the round top of the box. Just as it 
was about to yield, a sudden fear fell upon 
her heart. 

"Papa, perhaps — perhaps he did n't mean 
it for me. Perhaps he dropped it and it be- 
longs to some other little girl." 

Her father's eyes twinkled. 

"Look at the bottom of the box, Little 
One," he said. 

Vida turned the box upside down. There 
was her name — Vida Sumner Lane, as plain 
as plain could be, and while she was staring 
at it open mouthed, out dropped — not a 
little gray astrakhan muff", but a beautiful 
soft chinchilla one and a little collar to 
match ! And Sallie Carter peeped through 
her fingers that Christmas morning at the 
happiest little girl in all Christendom. 





BY JESSIE WRIGHT WHITCOMB 

The little boy and the little girl sat at the breakfast table eating oatmeal and milk. 

The papa said to the mama: "A Christmas goose is the best thing there is. 
This year \ve must have a Christmas goose." 

The litde girl looked up at the litde boy and smiled, and the litde boy smiled 
back. 

After breakfast the litde girl and the litde boy put on their caps and coats 
and mittens, and started off for the barn-)'ard. 

They met a big, old, fat duck. 

"Are you the Christmas goose?" said the little girl. 

The big, old, fat duck shook her head. 

They met a big, old, fat hen. 

" Are you the Christmas goose ? " said the little boy. 

But the big, old, fat hen shook her head. 

They met a big, old, fat guineadien. 

"Are you the Christmas goose?" asked the litde boy. 

The big, old, fat guinea-hen shook her head. 

They met a big, old, fat white goose. 
, "Areyou the Christmas goose?" asked the litde girl. 

And the big, old, fat, white goose nodded her head, and fluffed her leathers, 
and stepped proudly with her flat, yellow, webbed feet. 

" Oh, goody ! " shouted the little boy. " We Ve found our Christmas goose 
already ! " , 

"Oh! Oh! Oh! I know something," said the litde girl, and she ran to the 
house, just as fast as she could go. And when she came back she had a lovely 
litde holly wreath, tied with beautiful long red and green ribbons. 



104 



YULE-TIDE TALES FOR LEFTEE EOLK 





wait rieht 

o 

Don't 



■I'ltlll^i; 



'ARE YOU THE CHRISTMAS GOOSE 1* SAID THE LITTLE GIRL. 



They put the wreath over the head of the 
Christmas goose, and each held one of the rib- 
bons. The Christmas goose waddled proudly. 
The guinea-hens piped, the ducks quacked, 
and the hens clucked when they saw this sio-ht. 
The little boy and the little girl led and drove 
the proud Christmas goose out of the barn-yard to 
the green grove where all the little Christmas 
trees grew. 

" We must have a Christmas tree for 
our Christmas goose," 
said the litde girl. 

"Yes, yes, Christmas 
Goose," said the little 
boy, "you 
here for us 
you muss your holly 
wreath, and don't you 
muss your ribbons ! " 
The proud Christ- 
mas goose waddled gently, -to show how careful she would be. The little boy 
and the little girl ran away fast to get the things for the tree. 

The little girl brought back some ears of red and yellow corn, and a bunch 
of wheat and barley heads, and a pocketful of oats. 

The little boy brought back two cabbages, 
and a yellow pumpkin, and some grain. The i „ (" 

Christmas goose became so excited 
she saw those things, that she wa 
fast. 

" Wait a minute, Christmas Goo 
the little girl, and she fastened her 
the tree. 

" It is n't quite time, Christmas 
cried the little boy, and he placed 

things on the ground near the tree. | \i g,^^} T^^ITT' Vj^v 

" Now, Christmas Goose," ^'■''•^''^ Mi^iiikVmmmm. W^. 

said the little girl, "we will 
go and invite all your 
friends to come and see 
our beautiful tree!" 

So the little girl picked 
up her ribbon and the 
little boy picked up his 
ribbon, and they led 

and drove the Christmas , - .^BBIPi^"^ ' -TTaU"^* 

goose back to the barn- ,.,^1,^, ^ou the christmas goose?' said the little boy.' 




VULE-TIDE TALKS FOR UTTI,!'. FOLK 



105 




yard. But it was hard 

work, for the Christmas goose wanted to turn 

her head all the time to look at the Christmas 

tree. At the barn-yard all the chickens, and all the 

ducks, and all the guinea-hens, stood still to admire the 

fine Christmas goose in her holly wreath and ribbons. 

" Oh, Chickens ! " said the little boy. 

" Oh, Ducks ! " said the little girl. 

" Oh, Guinea- Hens ! " said the little boy. 

" Come, see our Christmas tree ! " said the little girl. 

The chickens clucked, and the ducks quacked, and the 
hens piped, and they all spread themselves out in a long row 
and ran around, and around, and around after the little girl am. 
the little boy driving their Christmas goose. 

The little boy and the little girl scattered corn and wheat and 
oats all over the ground around the Cliristmas tree. The chickens 
and the ducks and the guinea-hens ate, and ate, and ate. I he 
Christmas goose ate, too, but she ate ver)- proudl)-, and raised 
her head every few minutes to shake her holh' wreath. 

The papa and the mama came out to see them. 

" Heigh-ho, what 's this?" said the papa. 

" ^lercy, what 's all this ? " said the mama. 

"This is the Christmas goose ! " shouted the little boy. 

"And the Christmas goose's Christmas tree !" said the 
little girl. 

" And the Christmas goose's friends ! " said the little boy 

" Yes, and it is quite true, papa," said the little girl. ^. 
" A Christmas goose is the best thing there is ! W hy, _- 
a Christmas goose is just lots ot fun 

"Yes, mama," said the little boy, "a i 
Christmas croose is the best fun of all ! " 4.-., 





m^ 



W-^^lll 



,--^_^J,^^J^^^--^^Jd^W-^ — .rtw^WM^ 



„«* .t. •'♦•y/fl' 



!|i? ,1'' 



WAS a glad Lhristmas eve, and all over the 
world. 
With reindeer and sleigh dear old 
Santa had whirled. 
Xo one was forgotten or slighted by him; 
Each stocking was bulging and crammed to the 
brim. 
"There '" cried the old saint as he stopped at his 

door, 
"I 've made all the little ones happ}' once more ! 
But the rest of the night will be lonely, I fear; 
Why— what is this wonderful racket I hear?" 
He bounded down nimblv, so great his surprise, 
But stopped just inside, scarce believing his eyes; 



(Bmm3> mihrr ^miimol 



.ni 



■.^.* 



X|L 



a 



>' 



^ "^fis^ 



■//^ 









F r here \a ere the children that he had suj _ 
W ere sleepmg down yonder with eyes tightly 

clrstd 
Here snigmg and dancing and frisking in glee 
\r und a n ost dazzhng and beautiful tree! 
"Oh, Santa," they cried, "we have found you at 

last! 
How tired you must be ! You have journeyed 

so fast 
To take us good gifts ; but now, Santa Claus, see ! 
We have brought you some gifts, and this 

splendid, big tree ! 
We want you to know, just for once in a way, 
How happy you make us, each new Christmas 

day. 
These gifts did not grow in your Christmas 

tree grove ; 
W^e brought them for you, with our very best 

love !" 



YULE-TIDE TALES LOR LLLI'LE LULK 



107 



T'.'.er. T wisli }0u hai 


, seen 


thcni lead S 


ant a 


about 








To examine his gifts- 


-heari. 


. his laugh an 


1 ln^ 


shout 








When he found a fur c 


oat wi 


th a collar so wide, ] 


\\"hen he read the ga\ 


• note 


that \\as fast 


cncd 


inside ! 








There were bells for 


the reindeer, a pipe 


and 


red mittens. 








And one little girl hai 


I brou 


ght Santa her 


ku- 


tens. 








He 'd a brush for his 


clothi 


s and a brush 


for 


his hair. 








He had pictures and 


books 


and a great 


eas}- 


chair 








\\'here a good saint might nap it and sit at his | 


ease 








While presents grew 


ripe 


on his everg 


rcen 


trees. 








He 'd a pair of new spectacles. 


shiningandbri 


g-ht. 




108 



YULE-TIDE TALES FOR LITTLE FOLK 





■HERK THEY COME IN THE SLEIGH! A.\U THEY 'RE TO 
STAY THROUGH THE HOLIDAYSi" 



At SiE3iy gtaHloim ®f aimy rsiSI^wayp D)ec©innifei©s' 2 




THE STORY OF OUR BIBLE 

WHAT THE BIBLE IS Covenant men meant a new promise ma<lc by 

('.oil to man in the life ami teaching of fesiis 

There are millions of book? in the worM, luit the I'hrist. The Xew C'o\-enanl is reall\' the keejiinf,'- 

most wonderful of all is the Bihle. It is the only of the i)r.nnise made by God to man in the Old 

book which is read in all nations by scholars. Covenant. 

peasants, and little children. It is printed in ever\- Xdw you see what the Bible is. It is a book 

language. \\'hite people, black peoiile, \ellow .about (""iod and man, and the hero df ilu' boi.k is 

people, red people, and brown people read this the sTcat central fisnre in the history of the hu- 

book. It is the Wonder Book of the whole earth ; man race, Jesus Christ, 
the most marvelous collection of printeil words 

in all the world. And it is the Book of Life. We WIL\T THE OLD TESTAMENT IS 
shall read here many of the w^onderful stories the 

Bible tells; we shall consider the beautiful life of Tiif. Old Testament is the liistor)- of a certain 

Jesus; and when we have finished our stories nation called the Hebrews, or Jews, or Israelites 

from the Old and Xew Testaments, we shall have —three names all meaning the same thing. It is 

gained something that should make us wiser and their own history written bv themselves. The 

better in our lives than we ever were lief ore. Jews were chosen by C.od to teach the other na- 

When you look at inscriptions on monuments tions about life and the m\-ster\' of death. God 

and buildings you find that the date is alwa_\s fol- promised them that thev should be a blessing to 

lowed by two capital letters. These letters are all the world. Wdiat God promised they wrote 

either B.C. or a.d. The first of these means the down, and kept the writings carefully. 

time Before Christ; the second of these means ddiey \vere a wonderful nation, because, al- 

Aniio Domini, the time After Christ. though the\' were guilt\' of man\' sins and cruel- 
ties, thev worsliipeil one (iod when other nations 

THE CEXTER OE HISTORY AXD TIME were praying to huatben g'lds and bowing down 

before images made with wood and stone. They 
Think of time and of all human history as a were a ^-erN- poetic ami kinddiearted peo[ile. They 
picture— the picture of a vast countrv stretching bived to li\-e with their llocks, ami enjoy the sim- 
under the sun and the moon ami the stars frirever pie blessings of the beautiful earth. They made 
and ever; and then, in the midst of this picture, the home the great thuught of their lives. What 
very lonely and sad, you will see a cross rising we call fannd)- life, meaning the pleasures and 
out of the ground, with the figure of a man hang- affections of a happy hiiUie, was the chief ideal of 
ing upon it, dying for love of his friends and ene- this brave people. And what made them so happy 
mies. Behind that lonely cross all the country is and strong was their belief that God was watch- 
called B.C. — in front of it all the country is calleil ing over them. 

A.D. Jesus is the center of history and time. .\nd when they sinned, ami sorrow came upon 

From the cross men look forward; from tlie cross them, and their enemies conquered and ill-treated 

men look backward. Man, you see, has divided tluni, still the)- said that God would deliver them, 

time into two great parts, two immense di\-isions. l.iecause he had promised. So in the midst of 

The first division is the time before Jesus lived their sorrows they began to walch for the coming 

among men; the second division is the time after of some mighty being whom they called Messiah, 

Jesus appeared on the earth. All over the world thinking that this Son of God would destroy 

time is now divided in this wonderful wav. their enemies, give them back their flocks and 

Now, the book we are going to read about is herds, and set them up as the rulers of the whole 

divided into two parts, just as time is divided. It earth. .\11 this is written in the C)ld Testament, 

has its period called B.C. and its period called A.P. They watched and waited for the coming of 

The period called b.c. is known as the Old Testa- the Messiah. The promise of the :Messiah runs 

ment, and the period called a.d. is known as the through the Tild Testament like a little silver 

New Testament. The word testament used to be Ijrook winding through a dry country toward the 

called covenant, and this word covenant is really sea. But when the Messiah came they found that 

a much better word than testament, because it is he was n.it a mighty warrior, but a beautiful 

truer to the meaning.- By the Old Covenant men young peasant, who sat in a weather-beaten ship 

meant a promise made by God to man before with simple fishermen, and taught peojile that to 

Jesus appeared on the earth; and by the New forgive their enemies was better than to fight 



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THE STORY OF OUR BIUI.E 



115 



them. And then the Tews were anpry, and re- 
fused to believe that he was the Messiah. 

The Old Testament, then, shows us these peo- 
ple seeking after the Messiah ; and the New 'l~es- 
tament shows us these same people rejectinn; the 
Messiah. The whole Bible is. therefore, a bn^k 
about the great central figure of Jesus Christ, 
who stands in the midst of the world's ages. 

HOW THE BIBLE CA^IE TO BE X.\MED 

Ix very ancient times men used to write the 
stories of their fathers on a peculiar paper made 
from the pith of an Egyptian plant called papv- 
rns. It was on this papyrus that the Jews wrote 
their history, and the precious writings were ver_\- 
carefully kept as sacred records. Now, even be- 
fore Christ came into the world, the Greek jicoplc 
were anxious to learn about the Jews anil their 
clever writing. Men took the history of the Jews 
told on the papyrus and wrote it do\\'n in the lan- 
guage which the Greek people knew. 

Now, the Greek word for papyrus was bxblos, 
and this word came to stand for book; so that 
they spoke of the Hebrew writings as BibUa, or 
the Books. The Latin nation borrowed this 
word, and our first copies of the Bilile were in 
the Latin language and were called Bib'iia Sacra. 
meaning the Holy Books. At last Englislimen 
made their own words, and, speaking of all these 
writings as the Book, and not the Books, called it 
the Holy Bible. So that Bible means The Book. 



THE WRITING OF THE TESTA^IENTS 

The Old Testament contains many flitlcrcnt 
books, each with its own particular name. C)ne 
tells how the world was made by God, ami de- 
scribes God's dealings with men. Another shows 
how the Hebrews lived under their priests, judges 
and kings. Many writers in diiTerent centuries 
composed these different books. Some of these 
writers were historians, others were poets, many 
were priests and prophets. Their writings were 
kept with great care for long years until the 
printing-press was invented in the fifteenth cen- 
tury. Before that time they were written out by 
hand. It took nearly one thousand years for the 
book to get into its present shape. 

The New Testament is much smaller than the 
Old Testament, but much more precious, because 
It has four beautiful stories of our Lord Jesus 
Christ from his birth in Bethlehem to his ascen- 
sion into heaven thirty-three years later. These 
four histories were written by Matthew, Mark, 
Luke, and John, the friends and disciples of Je- 



sus, licsides these four histories, there is a story 
I if \\ii,-it the friends ,and disciples of Jesus did 
.after he b.ad gone b.'ick to he;i\'en. TJien there 
are nian\' licuilifnl letters frnni (lie disciples and 
.-ipiistles III Jesus, ;iiiil the bunk ends with a vision 
lit lie;i\'en b_\- Jnhn, the _\iiung m.an whom Jesus 
lo\'ed must. 

All these were written ;it different times, and 
in dilTereiit jilaces, liy different writers. They 
Were in ditferent langu.ages, ( ireek, Aramaic, and 
Hebrew. ^Maii)- people ciiuld nut read them at 
all on that account. So in due lime great schol- 
ars began to transbate the writings of both the 
( )ld and the New Testament into all the principal 
languages of man. First they were turned into 
< ireck by wise men who loved the Old Testa- 
ment, fireck at that time was a languEige well 
understoiid li\- many people in different parts of 
the wrirld. Later on Latin liecame a much-spoken 
language, and the great scholar St. Jerome turned 
both the Old and the New Testament into Latin. 
It took a long time to dn this. .As mi printing 
existed in those daws the Bilile had to be written 
out by hand, in letters something like printed let- 
ters to-day. 

THE FIRST PRINTING OF THE BIBLE 

Bip.LES were \'ery few and \'ery expensive for 
maii\' centuries. ( )nl\- rich pcnple could afford 
to liu\- them. .Sometimes a rich man would pre- 
sent a Bible to a church for the free use of the 
people. This biHik was large and heavy. It was 
therefore placed on a reading-stand in the church, 
where all might see and all might read. In order 
to keep thieves frnm stealing it, the Bible was 
Ijriund in heav\- metal covers, and attached to a 
chain. ddiic\'cs had much trouble to steal such 
books, but still they often stole them because they 
could sell them for as much money as would luiy 
a lot and a house to-day. 

At last came the time when a great German, 
Tnbann fkitenberg, invented the printing-press. 
This was al)Out the year 143.S. Soon all snrts of 
books began to be printed. The poor could now 
have books as well as the rich. .As the Bilde was 
the best loved bnok in the whole world then, just 
as it is to-day, it was translated into many differ- 
ent languages, printed freely, and sold every- 
where. Germany bad as m.any as fifty different 
translations, and seventeen of these were printed 
before the sixteenth century began. The Bible 
was turned into ITencb, Spanish. It.alian, and 
English. Thus for the first time in history the 
Bible became the possession of the poor man, at 
llie close of the fifteenth century. St. Jerome in 
the fourth century had turned the Bible into 



16 



THE STORY OF OUR BIBLE 



Latin. Many writers in various countries had remained the popular favorite since it was 

used his book to help them translate the Bible printed. 

into tlieir native tongues. But it was Gutenberg 

and his printing-press that introduced the Bible WHAT THE BIBLE SHOULD DO 

to every man, rich or poor, who cared to read. FOR THE YOUNG 



THE E.VRLY ENGLISH BIBLE 

How did the Bilile come into the English tongue? 
In tlie same manner as in other countries, b'irst 
they had it in the Anglo-Saxon tongue in the 
twelfth century. But after the Normans con- 
quered England (in 1066) they made French the 
polite language of the day, and the Anglo-Saxon 
was changed by degrees into something like the 
English we speak to-da\-. ddiis ch.ange required 
three hundred _\-cars, Wdien the old Anglo-Sa.xon 
Bible could no longer be understood li\- the pe(j- 
ple, an(jther translation was made, Ijut no one 
knows who were the translators. In 1380 ap- 
peared a new Bible prepared hv a priest, named 
John \A')-clif, and his friends, which was used for 
a century. By that time the art of printing had 
reached England, and in a short time every one 
had a Bible in his possession. 

But the English language changed very rapidly 
in those da\'S, so that at last the old Bibles could 
not be understood hv the connnon people. New 
translations were made from time to time, about 
every ten )'ears, from \A'illiam Tvndale's in 1525 
to the end of that century. It is a hard task to 
translate this wonderful book, and even with the 
greatest care errors wdll creep in. In order to 
get a nearly perfect Bilile, as free from mistakes 
as possible, two parties of learned men in Eng- 
land set to work, one in 1375 and the other in 
1604. " The learned Cardinal Allen directed the 
first party, wdiich brought out in 1610 a conqilete 
translation of the Bilile. It is called the Douai 
Bible, because the work was done in a town 
called Douai, in Belgium — now in France. King 
lames I. of En.gland directed the second party, 
wdiich brought out its famous translation in 161 1. 
It is known as the King James version, and has 



Much more might be written about this great 
book, but enough has been said to give some no- 
tion of bow it came to be. So when the children 
open a Bible at the lovely story of Ruth in the 
field of corn, or that of David singing before 
King Saul, or at the beautiful narrative of the 
angels appearing to the shepherds of Bethlehem, 
let them remember what has been here set down. 
How many great men have labored hard, suf- 
fered much, and even died, in order to place that 
glorious book in their hands ! 

Let them also bear in mind the intention of 
(.iod in the division of the Bible into two parts. 
The first part speaks constantly of the coming of 
the Redeemer, Jesus the Son of God, who was to 
save mankind from sin and eternal death. God 
promised to send his son in the form of a man 
to l.)e the king and the comfort of the wdiole hu- 
man race, d he children must read the stories 
from the Old Testament with this promise in 
their minds. They wdll see then how the people 
of the Bible stories were looking anxiously for 
the Redeemer's coming. 

The New Testament tells how he came, in the 
story of Jesus; how he was born in Bethlehem, 
lived in Nazareth, died on Calvary, rose the third 
day from the tomb in the garden, and forty days 
later, from the sunmiit of Mount Olivet, went 
back to heaven. 

Let them remember also that they are to be like 
Jesus in their daily life; that they are to meet 
him after death to .give an account of how they 
spent their time on this earth; and that he is to 
come again at the end of the world to judge all 
men for the last time. With these things in mind 
the reading of the beautiful Bible stories and his- 
tories will turn the thoughts of the children away 
from the mere pleasure of reading to the know- 
ledge and love of our Lord Jesus Christ. 




OLD TESTAMENT STORIES 
EOR CHILDREN 



y.Sg=^ 



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ss^j^Jis^'^:? 



THK CREATION 

Dear chiMreii. tn \(iu the wcirUl is ;i \'er\- heaiiti- 
ful place: there are the bright sunshine, the Mue 
sk\', the sparkhng waters, the green fiehls, the 
waving trees, tlie pretl\' ilnwers, tlie cattle graz- 
ing in the nieaduws, besiiles iiian\" creatures \ (jn 
ha\"e learned tei hi\'e, ami aho\e all, there are 
your parents, relatinns, an.l frieii'ls. 

Can you picture to yourseh'es a tune when 
none of these lo\el\" things existed? I think not! 
Older and wiser heads than vours ha\e siri\"en 
to grasp that idea, and have failed: :uid mi \\ un- 
der, for it is onlv God himself, the Creator of the 
world, who can do so. 

God is from everlasting, and will he everhist- 
ing; but once there was no world, and si:ime day 
the world will have [)assed awa\'. We cainiot 
understand this now — (jod does not luean us to 
do so — but we know that it is true, f(.ir he, the 
author of truth, has said so. 

In the be.ginning God createil heaven and earth. 

At first the earth was wdthdUt form and empty 

— that is to sa\-, there were no trees or plants of 
any kind and no li\ing creatures, and everything 
was wrapped in darkness. 

THE SEVEN DAYS 

Then God created li.ght. You have alwa^'s been 
used to the light, and, therefore, [lei haps )iin will 
not understand what a glorious gift this is. ddiose 
wdio are born blind and have never known the 
light still have a yearning for it ; but those wdio 
have once possessed sight and have lost it wnuld 
tell you that it is the greatest blessing Thid has 
bestowed upon us. It is for this reason that our 
Saviour, when he came to us, was called "The 
Light of the World." 

On the second day God created the firmament 

— that means the sky and the space in which the 
clouds are formed. 



C)n the third day he gathered ti.igether the 
\\'aters. ;ind fnrnieil them into si-as .-ind livers. 
I hen he created trees, shrubs, herbs, Ibiwers, and 
grass, eaeli (if them \ielding seed to preserve its 
kind. 

,\iiy little child who has ever h:id :i garden to 
tend will kmiw tliat when the summer is p.ast, and 
the lli.iwers begin tn drmip .and die, (here are al- 
\\;iys Seeds In lie gathered frnm them, which will, 
if carefully planted, spring up and bloiim annther 
_\ear, and in their turn pniduce nlhfr seeds, so 
that e\eii (he llnwcrs .are t\[ies of eternitv. 

("hi the fnurth (ki_\- Gml said, "Let the sun and 
the mciiin and the stars appear," .and thev came 
at his liiddmg, the sun tu cheer us by da\ , and the 
miiiiii and the stars hv night. I winider if you 
b,a\e e\er tried tn cnunt the st.irs ? If \iiu have, 
\(iii did iKit succeeil, fur no iiiie but ( iod knows 
their number. They sparkle and shine m the 
sk\-, le.iehing its to Imik upw.ard and remember 
their Maker, and it seems to me that thev say to 
\iiu as \-ou watch them: "Idiildreii or earth, 
stru'e tn be like us. Firing light into the world: 
there is plenty of d.irk snrrow \et, which each 
little human star may lighten with lo\'e and syni- 
patlu' if it will." 

It was (in the fifth day that God created the 
inhabitants of the waters, (iod said: "Let the 
waters bring forth aliundantb-," and at once 
the seas and rivers \yerc Idled with fish and ;ill the 
(idler creatures which li\'e in the wa(er. The 
birds and all other kinds iif win.ged things were 
fiirnied upnn this da)' also. 

(Jn the si.xdi day (.iod created all the creatures 
that move (Hi the earth; and lastly God made 
man to be bird ii\'er e\'er\- nther creature, and 
the name nf the first man was .Vdain. 

We are tnld th.at "(iod cre;ded man m his own 
image" — that is to sa\", he ga\'e man a Sdul or 
spirit, wdiieh can never perish as the beasts of 
the field perish: our Ijodies die, but oirr spirits 
return to the God who gave them. 



lis 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES TOR CHILDREN 



ADAM AND E\'E IX EDEN 

And God planted a beautiful garden in Eden 
in which Adam might li\'e, and, because he did 
not wish him to be alone in the world he had 
given him, he created a woman to be his help- 
meet, and the name of the first woman was Eve. 

On the seventh dav God ceased from his work 
"if creation, and he blessed the seventh day and 
made it boh', and he wishes us to keep it hol_\' too. 

God brought all the creatures he had made to 
Adam, that he might give them names, and he 
told Adam that everything which he had created, 
with one exception, was for his use and pleasure. 
The one exception was a tree in the midst of the 
garden, wdiich God called "the tree of knowledge 
of good and evil." This tree he forbade them to 
touch. 

With so much to please and delight them, vou 
would think that .Vdam and Eve would not have 
wished to taste the fruit of this tree ; but, alas ! 
the Evil Spirit tempted them, and they fell. The 
Bible tells us that this Evil Spirit came in the 
form of a serpent, and first tempted Eve. She 
forgot how good God had been, and disobe\'ed 
him in eating the fruit; then she went to her 
husband and gave him some of the fruit, and he 
also ate it. 

When they had done this thev began to be 
afraid, and when they heard God's vciice they 
went and hid themselves. Oh, how foolish this 
was ! No one can hide from God's all-seeing eve. 
When they knew that God had found them they 
tried to excuse themselves. Adam said, "Idle 
woman gave me of the tree, and I did eat" ; and 
Eve said, "The serpent beguiled me, and I did 
eat." 

PUNISHiMENT OF THE EIRST SIN 

God did not heed their excuses, but said that he 
would no longer allow them to dwell in the beau- 
tiful garden of innocence he had given them, be- 
cause, having eaten of the tree of knowledge, 
they were no longer pure and innocent. To the 
Evil Spirit who had tempted them he said, "The 
seed of the woman shall bruise thy head." 

Then God drove Adam and Eve out of the 
Garden of Eden, and placed cherubim at the 
gateway, and a flaming sword wdiich turned every 
wa}-, to prevent their ever returning to it. So 
they were dri\en by their own sin out into the 
dreary world, where they were to work hard for 
their living, and where every thorn and thistle 
that sprang up to mar their crops should remind 
them of their ottence and God's anger. 

Adam and Eve had now brought sin into the 



world, and sin is like an ill weed, which thrives 
more quickl)- than good grain. God gave Adam 
and E-\'e two sons, named Cain and Abel. Cain 
grew up to be cruel and wicked. He was a hus- 
bandman—that is, a man who tills the ground— 
wdiile his brother Abel was a shepherd, 

THE CRIME OE CAIN 

God had told Adam and Eve that they were to 
set apart certain days for worship and sacrifice, 
and wdien Abel came to offer his sacrifice he 
brought the best that he had, the finest lamb in all 
his flock, for he thought that nothing could be 
too good to offer to God, the giver of all. And 
God was pleased with his sacrifice and accepted 
it. This made Cain very angry and very jealous. 
He, too, had lirought his offering of fruit, but 
f"iod had said that the sacrifice should be a lamb; 
besides which, he knew that Cain's gift was 
grudgingly given, and, therefore, he would not 
accept it. 

I do not think Cain's hatred of his brother 
could have been of sudden growth. Abel had al- 
wa)'s been gentle and loving, and Cain wild and 
disobedient; and little by little he must have 
grown more angry with and jealous of his bro- 
ther, because he knew that Abel was good, while 
he was wicked. Then wdien God rejected his 
offering and accepted Abel's, he could no longer 
contain his wrath, and he struck his brother and 
killed him. 

Then God said to Cain, "Where is Abel, thy 
brother?" And Cain answered, "I know not: 
am I my brother's keeper?" How could he hope 
to deceive God by a lie? God reads all the se- 
crets of our hearts, and he now told Cain that he 
knew all that had happened, and that as a punish- 
ment he would drive him forth from his home, a 
fugitive and a vagabond on the face of the earth. 

Cain begged for mercy, and one mercy God 
granted him — time for repentance. He might 
have chosen to take Cain's life for that of Abel, 
l)ut he did not do so. Cain wandered away, 
lonely and wretched. Let us trust that as the 
\ears rolled by he repented and became sorry for 
his sin. 

THE GREAT FLOOD 

As the number of people on the earth began to 
multiply, so also did wickedness increase, until at 
length God looked down from heaven and was so 
grieved that, the Bible tells us, he repented that 
he had ever made man. 

And God said that he would destroy both man 
and every living thing upon the face of the eaith. 



OLD tp:stamknt storiks for ohildren 



119 



But there was one good man, named Noah, and 
God, Who is ever merciful, sent Noah to preacli 
to the people, hoping that they would repent. 
They did not do so, and so God hade Xoah huild 
an ark — that is, a kind of ship — which was (o he 
large enough to hold, not onl\- Noah and his fam- 
ily, but also two of cver\- kind of animal; for 
God told Noah that he would presenth- send a 
great tfood upon the earth, which would drown 
every creature that was not in the ark. 

THE .\RK AND ITS \"0YAGE 

So Noah set to work to huild the ark. It took 
a hundred and twenty years to build, and during 
that time Noah never ceased preaching tn the 
people and begging them to repent, blut thev 
only mocked him, for e\'erv da\' the sun shone, 
and season by season they gathercil their har- 
vests, taking so much from the hand of the God 
of mercy that thev forgot he was also a God of 
justice. 

When the ark was finished God bade Noah and 
his family enter it, and then, just as he had 
brought the animals to .Vdam t(i be named, God 
now brought them to the ark to he safe there 
when the flood should come. E\-cn then liod was 
still ready to pity and panlon. He waited \-et 
another seven da^-s, lest the people should repent 
and be sorrv for their sins. 

But when he saw that their hearts were still 
hardened against him he bade the rain-clouds 
burst, and the rain began to fall. Not in gentle 
showers, but in torrents and torrents of water, it 
came down from heaven, swelling the seas and 
rivers until the whole earth was covered with 
water. There was no escape for the unhappy 
people who had otteniled God, though they might 
climb to the top of the highest mountain, (iod's 
wrath overtook them there, for the waters of the 
great flood left no single spot uncovered. 

For forty davs and nights the rain fell, anrl 
then it ceased: but the flood did not go down for 
a hundred and fifty days, and all that long time 
the ark floated safely upon the waters. Then, 
little by little, the waters decreased, until on the 
seventeenth day of the seventh month the ark 
rested upon the mountain of Ararat, and on the 
first day of the tenth month the tops of the 
mountains could be seen. 

WHAT THE DOVE FOUND 

Forty days after the ark rested on the moun- 
tain of Ararat, Noah opened a window and sent 
out a raven, which flew to anrl fro continually. 
Then he sent out a dove to see if the waters were 



abated: but the dove found no resting-place, for 
the waters stdl covereil the earlh, and the poor 
weary bird came hack p. (he ark, and Noah put 
"U( his hand and todk her in. 

In sexeu days' time .\'r)ah ag.ain sent out the 
dove, and .all day king she Hew about in the fresh 
air: but in the e\ening she came back, carrying 
an (ilivedu-.anch in her beak. By that token Noah 
knew that the waters were gradually going down. 
He waited another seven days, and then again he 
sent out the dt.ve, and this time she did not re- 
turn, and Xoah knew that the waters no longer 
covered the earth. 

Noah did not at once leave the ark. He and 
his sons remo\'ed the roof that they might be able 
to see the land; but they waited nearly two 
months, so that the ground might be quite dry. 
Then God said to Noah: "Go forth of the ark, 
thou, and thy wife, and thy sons, and thy sons' 
wi\es with thee"; and they left the ark, taking all 
the animals that had been there with them. 

THE MEANING OF THE RAINBOW 

TllE^^ Noah built an altar and offered up a sac- 
rifice to God, in token of his gratitude to him for 
having saved him :ind his family from the flcjod. 
(_iod was pleased with this offering, and he made 
a covenant with Noah. A co\'enant is a promise. 
This was tjod's promise: He said that never 
again would he utterly destroy the earth by a 
flood, and as a token of his promise he said that 
he would set his bow in the heavens whenever 
he sent ram upon the earth. 

]\b;ist of you have seen a lovely rainbow in the 
sk\-. It reaches from earth to heaven and seems 
to join the two. The next time you see one, 
think of God's promise, and thank him for all his 
love, remembering that while we carry the 
thought of God in our hearts heaven is as near 
as the rainbow seems to bring it. 

Noah lived three hundred and fifty vears after 
the flood. This seems a very long time to us, 
does it not? But in those days, when there were 
so few ]ieople upon the earth, God granted them 
longer life than he gives us. 

THE UNFINISHED TOWER 

All the people at that time spoke one language, 
and this might have continued until now had it 
not been that as the years passed the people be- 
gan to grow wicked again, and to forget all that 
God had done for them and the promise he had 
made. 

They were so proud that they wished to remain 
a great nation for ever and ever, and, lest God 



120 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



should send another flood or destroy them in 
some other way, they determined to huilil a great 
city, with a tower in it whose top should reach to 
heaven, and in which they could take refuge 
whenever any evil befell them. 

But God looked from heaven and saw the city 
and the tower they were building so busily; and 
he said that if they were allowed to finish their 
work their pride and arrogance would increase; 
and they would forget him altogether. And in 
order to prevent this God "confounded their lan- 
guage"— that is to say, he made them all speak 
different tongues, so that they could not under- 
stand one another, and they could not go on build- 
ing their great city and tower. 

You can understand, if you were suddenly 
placed with a number of people wdio could not 
speak one word of English and whose language 
you had never heard before, how miserable you 
would feel, and how you would long to get back 
to the friends whose language you could under- 
stand. These people felt just the same; they 
sought out those whose speech was the same as 
their own, and wandered away with them, and by 
degrees they became scattered all over the earth 
and founded the different nations that exist now. 

The great tower they had commenced to build 
was called the "Tower of Babel," because it 
was there the Lord changed the language of all 
the people. 

ABRAHAM 

God was very angry with his people, for many of 
them had left off worshiping him, and had made 
idols of wood and stone, which they pretended 
were gods and to which they prayed. They also 
worshiped the sun, moon, and stars, besides all 
kinds of beasts and birds. So God determined to 
choose from the people one man who would really 
love and serve him, and the man he chose was 
called Abram. God afterward changed his name 
to Abraham, which means the father of a great 
multitude. 

God told Abraham to leave his home and kin- 
dred, for he did not wish his chosen servants to 
live among idolaters, and he promised that he 
should be the founder of a nation, and that he 
would make his name great and would bless him 
and his descendants forever. 

God also promised that his children should in- 
herit the land of Canaan, the Promised Land, as 
it was afterward called. 

Abraham did not doubt God's wisdom in send- 
ing him away into a strange country, and did not 
attempt to disobey him. He set out at once with 
3arah, his wife, and Lot, his nephew, and they 



journeyed together until they came to the land 
of Canaan. But God did not mean them to pos- 
sess the land at once, and so they went on and on 
until they came to the land of Egypt. Even there 
they did not rest long, but traveled back to the 
land of Canaan. Abraham and Lot had many 
flocks and herds and many servants to tend them, 
and it chanced that a quarrel arose between Lot's 
servants and Abraham's servants, for they all 
wished to lead their own particular herds into the 
best pastures. 

THE PARTING OF ABRAHAM AND LOT 

So Abraham said to Lot : "Let there be no 
strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, or be- 
tween my herdsmen and thy herdsmen ; for we 
are brethren." And he bade Lot choose any part 
of the land for himself, and said that he, Abra- 
ham, would choose another, for it would be better 
for them to separate than to quarrel. 

Lot chose the country near the river Jordan, for 
it was very fruitful and lovely "as the Garden of 
the Lord," the Bible says. And then he left 
Abraham and went to live in the country he had 
chosen, and pitched his tents near the city of 
Sodom. This was wrong of Lot, because the 
people of Sodom were very wicked, and he should 
not have gone to live with them just because 
their country was a rich one. 

But Lot was punished for the choice he made. 
A number of kings came and fought against 
Sodom and other wicked cities, and they plun- 
dered the cities and carried away the inhabitants 
as captives, and with them they took Lot and his 
family. 

When Abraham heard of this he armed his ser- 
vants and pursued the kings, and when he had 
overtaken them he attacked and beat them, and 
brought back Lot, besides a number of other cap- 
tives, and all the goods that had been taken. 

It was the custom in those days for men to 
have more than one wife, and Abraham's second 
wife was called Hagar. For a long time Abra- 
ham had had no children, but at length God sent 
Hagar a little son, whom they called Ishniael. 



THE WICKED CITIES 

Soon after Ishmael was born a very terrible 
thing happened. The cities of the plain, of which 
Sodom was one, had become so terribly wicked 
that God determined to destroy them, for the peo- 
ple who inhabited them were not fit to live in that 
beautiful country. 

God told Abraham what he meant to do, and 
Abraham thought of Lot and his family, and was 



OLD TKSTAMKNT STORIKS FOR CHILDREN 



121 



anxious to ?ave them. So ho huniblcil liiniself 
before God and prayed liini to spare llie cities. 
He said that perhaps there niit;iit he fifty rinlit- 
eous people in the cities, and the\' would perisii 
with the wicked. Goil said that he would spare 
the cities if fifty, forty, or even twenty yooil men 
could be founil in them. 

Abraham could not find twenty good men, and 
then he beg,s:ed God to spare them for the sake of 
ten. This God promised to do, but tliere were 
not even ten. Abraham then asked God to save 
Lot and his family, and God sent two angels to 
Sodom to bill Lot warn his relations to lea\'c the 
city; but they mocked him, and would nut believe 
the message the angels brought. Then the angels 
told Lot to hasten away at unce, and take bis 
family with him, but even he lingered awhile 
until the angels took him by the hand and led 
him, his wife, and their two daughters out uf the 
city, and the angels said : "Escape for thy life. 
Look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all the 
plain. Escape to the mountain, lest thou be con- 
sumed." 

Then Lot hastened away, and when the sun 
rose in the morning God rained down fire and 
brimstone from heaven ui)on the wicked cities of 
Sodom and Gomorrah, in which there had not 
been found even ten good men. And they were 
utterly destroyed, and all the other cities of the 
plain also. 

Lot remembered what the angel had said tu 
him: but his wife did not. She louked liack re- 
gretfully toward the city where her home had 
been, and immediately she became a [lillar of salt. 

There is no vestige of these guilty cities left. 
The place on which they stood is covered to this 
day with a lake called the Dear! Sea. The waters 
of this lake are salt and bitter, and no plants or 
trees will grow near it. It is a gloomy and sad- 
looking spot. 

THE SOXS OF ABRAHAM 

I TOLD you that Abraham had rmc son, called 
Ishmael. God had told him that, although Ish- 
mael would be the father of many princes, he 
did not intend him to be the father of the great 
nation to wdiom he had promised the land of 
Canaan as an inheritance. He said he would 
give him another son, who should found this na- 
tion. Soon after this promise God gave Abra- 
ham's first wife, Sarah, a son, and they called 
this son Isaac. 

One day Sarah saw Ishmael behaving unkindly 
to her little son Isaac, and this made her very 
angry indeed, I think most likely she was jeal- 
ous of Ishmael also, for she did not want her son 



tu share .\brah,am's possessions with Hagar's son, 
as I Iag:ir w;is oidy a slave. So she went to Abra- 
ham and begged him to send both Ilagar and 
Ishmael aw.av. .Mjr.abam did not wish to do this. 
Indeed, it seemed a very cruel thing to do, for 
dri\en ,iwa\- into the ilesert, there would be little 
chance nf the wum.an and her son findnig food 
and drink, and the\' would be almost sure to per- 
ish. 

HAGAR AND ISHMAEL 

But God tuM Abraham to have no fear, for he 
wiiuld take care of them, and he might therefore 
do as Sarah begged him. So m the murning 
Abraham took snme bread and a bottle of water, 
and, i)lacing them upuii llag.ar's slKnilders, Sent 
her and her child away into the desert. 

Tliev wandereil cui and on, with the fierce sun 
l)eating down upon their heads, making them so 
thirsty that they very soon drank up all tiie water 
in their bottle, and then, search as they might, 
they cnuld find no nmrc. At length Ishmael sank 
down exhausted, and Ilagar carried him to where 
a shrub grew, so that the shade from it might 
shield him a little from the sun. Then, because 
bile could not bear to see him die, she went a lit- 
tle way off and hid her face. But in his agon}- 
Ishmael called to God to help him, and Ciod heard 
him and sent an angel to Hagar who liade her 
have no fear, for God would save her son. And 
then the angel showed her a well ijf water, and 
she filleil her bottle and carried it to the poor dy- 
ing l)o\-, and he revived, and soon grew quite well 
again. 

Hagar and Ishmael li\-eil in the wilderness for 
many )'ears, for (jcxl taught Ishmael to l.iecome a 
great archer, so that he ccnild provide food for 
himself and his mother, and when be grew up he 
married a woman from the land of Egypt, and it 
is from him that the wandering tribes of Arabs 
are descended. 

As Abraham's second son, Isaac, grew up from 
l.i;dj)diO(jil into youth Abraham loved him more 
and'uKjre dearly, until God feared lest he might 
become an idol to him, and determined to try his 
servant's faith. 

THE TRIAL OE ABRAHAM'S FAITH 

OxE day God said to Aljraham : "Take thy son, 
thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get 
thee into the land of Moriah, and otter him there 
for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains 
which I will tell thee of." 

God seemed tu wish to make the sacrifice as 
bard as possible. He reminded Abraham that 
lihmael was lost to him and only Isaac remained. 



122 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



"Thine onlv son," he said. Then he dwelt upon 
the fact that Abraliam loved him so dearly, and 
he also sent him three days' journey in order that 
he mi^ht have time to think of the sacrifice he 
was about to make. It is sometimes easier to 
give up something to God if we can do it in a 
moment, without time to think how we shall 
afterward miss that which we are giving up. tiod 
did not make Abraham's trial easier to him in 
this wav ; he had three \vhole days to think of 
wdiat his loss would be. And yet, not for a mo- 
ment did he hesitate. He set out upon that sad 
journey, taking with him everything that was 
needful for the sacrifice. When he came near to 
the mountain which God appointed as the one he 
had chosen, Abraham told his servants to await 
him there, and he and Isaac went on alone. 

Isaac must have wondered what his father 
meant to do, for he had bidden him carry wood, 
while Abraham himself carried fire, with which 
to kindle the wood as for a sacrifice, and so he 
asked, "Where is the lamb for a burnt offering?" 
And Abraham said, "My son, God will provide 
himself a iamb. " 

When they came to the place which God had 
told Abraham of, he made an altar of stones, and 
put the wood upon it ; then he bound Isaac and 
laid him upon the wood, and took the knife in his 
hand to slay him. 

But God did not mean to try his servant fur- 
ther. He knew now that Abraham loved him 
better even than his own dear son, and he sent 
an angel to prevent him from harming Isaac. 
"Lay not thine hand upon the lad; for now I 
know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not 
withheld thy son, thine only son, from me," the 
angel said. Oh ! how joyfully Abraham hastened 
to release his son, and, seeing a ram close by, 
caught by its horns in a thicket, he took it and 
offered it up to God in place of his son. 

God was so pleased with Abraham for his great 
faith and obedience that he blessed him very 
richly, promising that Isaac's descendants should 
be in number like the stars of the heavens and as 
the sand upon the seashore. 

THE CHOOSING OF REBEKAH 

Some twelve years after this event Isaac's mother, 
Sarah, died, and Abraham bought a beautiful 
burying-place, called the cave of Machpelah, in 
which to lay her body, Abraham was now a 
very old man, and he was anxious to see his son 
Isaac married before he died ; but he did not wish 
him to marry one of the women of Canaan, for 
they worshiped idols. So he called his servant 
Xiflezer and told him to visit his brother's family 



at the city of Nahor, and there choose a wife for 
his son. 

Eliezer set out upon his journey, taking with 
him ten of his master's camels laden with gold 
and jewels and presents of various kinds. When he 
reached the city he noticed a well of water, and 
there he alighted to rest, and to watch the maid- 
ens who came to the well, for he thought that 
one of them might be suited to be Isaac's wife. 

Eliezer was so afraid that he might not choose 
wisely that he prayed to God to help him. He 
said: "I^et it come to pass that the damsel to 
whom I shall say, 'Let down thy pitcher, I pray 
thee, that I may drink,' and she shall say, 'Drink, 
and I will give thy camels drink also,' let the 
same be she that thou hast appointed for thy ser- 
vant Isaac." 

God granted Eliezer's prayer, for presently, 
wdien the maidens came to the well to draw 
water, there was one among them called Re- 
bekah, a granddaughter of Abraham's brother, 
and she was very beautiful, and looked good and 
modest. So Eliezer asked her to draw water for 
him to drink, and v/hen she had done this she saw 
the poor weary camels looking eagerly at the 
water, and she said, "I will draw water for thy 
camels also." 

Then Eliezer knew that this maiden was chosen 
to be Isaac's wife, and he gave her some of the 
jewels and rich presents he had brought with him, 
and asked her to take him home with her, that he 
might speak to her family. 

Eliezer was still more pleased when he found 
whose daughter she was. He spoke to her bro- 
ther Laban, and to her father, and asked their 
consent to her being Isaac's wife. As both they 
and Rebekah were willing, Eliezer begged her to 
make no delay, but to return with him at once. 
He gave presents of jewels of silver and gold 
and fine raiment to Rebekah, and many precious 
things to her relations, and then set out upon his 
journey home. Isaac was in the fields at evening- 
time when he saw Eliezer and Rebekah coming, 
and he went forward to meet them. Rebekah 
covered herself with a veil when she saw him 
coming, which was considered a token of mod- 
esty. 

Soon afterward Isaac and Rebekah were mar- 
ried and lived happily together for many years. 
Abraham did not live long after Isaac's marriage, 
and when he died his sons Isaac and Ishmael 
buried him beside Sarah, his wife, in the cave of 
Machpelah. 

ESAU AND JACOB 

Is.\AC and Rebekah had two sons, Esau and Ja- 
cob. Esau was a hunter, and was often away 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



123 



from home for a long- time in pursuit of venison; 
hut Jacob stayed at home and tdlcd tlic fields. 
One day Esau had been lunitiiig for so lomj; lliat 
he had heeonie quite faint for ^vant of food, and, 
seeing Jacob in the fields, lie begged him to give 
him some. Jacob would not do so until b^sau 
promised to sell him his birthright — that is, his 
right as an elder son, Esau reasoned with him- 
self that be would most certainh- die uidess he 
obtained food, and that bis birthright would then 
be of no use to him, ant', so he consented to sell 
it to Jacob for some bread and some pottage of 
lentils. 

It was wrong of Jacob to take such an advan- 
tage of his hungry brother ; but Esau ought not 
to have sold the birthright God had given bini. 

Isaac loved Esau very dearh' ; but Rebekah 
loved Jacob best, and was anxious that he sb(.iuld 
obtain the greater portion of his father's posses- 
sions. 

JACOB'S TRICKY DECEIT 

When Isaac was an old man and his eyes so 
dim that he could not distin,guisb Ijctween his two 
sons, he called Esau to bim and bade him take his 
bow and quiver and go into the fields and shoot 
some venison, then dress it and bring it to him 
that he might eat it and bless him before he died. 

Esau at once went to do his father's biddin.g, 
but Rebekah had beard what her husband bad 
said, and she called Jacob to her and told him 
what Isaac had said to Esau. She bade Jacob 
fetch two kids from the flock and firing tbeni to 
her, and she would dress them in such a way that 
Isaac would think they were venison. When she 
had done this she gave the dish to Jacob to carry 
in to his father, saying that he was Esau. 

Now, it happened that Jacob's skin was very 
smooth and soft, while Esau's was rough and 
hairy, so Rebekah covered Jacob's hands and 
neck with the skins of the goats, and then he car- 
ried the meat in to his father, and told him that 
he was Esau, his eldest son. Isaac could not 
understand' how it was that the venison had been 
found so quickly; but Jacob wickedly told him 
that God had found it for him. 

Isaac still doubted, and bade Jacob come near 
that he might touch him. Then he said, "The 
voice is Jacob's voice ; but the hands are the 
hands of Esau." And again he asked him, "Art 
thou my very son Esau ?" When Jacob answered 
"Yes," he took the meat prepared for him and ate 
it, and then blessed him. "God give thee," he 
said, "of the dew of heaven, and the fatness of 
the earth; be lord over thy brethren, and let thy 
mother's sons bow down to thee." 



\\ lien Is.aac's blessing bad been .given and Ja- 
cnb had left bull, b's.au came In bis father with 
I be sa\-ory iiicil be li.id prepared. Then Isaac 
was \'ery grieved, fur be knew that be bad been 
decei\'ed and li:iil gi\en awa\' the blessing in- 
tended fur Ins best-bi\ed son. 

.\nd Esau cried bitterl)-, "Pdess me, even me 
also, () my father." Isa.ac told him that it was no 
lunger in bis pnwer tn '/we him all the good 
things he bad given lo bis brnllier; but that he; 
too, should be blessed, and that be should one day 
break bis bnillier's )'(ike from nff bis neck — that 
is to s;i}', that his brother should not always be 
bird over bim. 

I'^sau was so angry willi Jacob that he made up 
bis mind to kill him as soon as Isaac was dead, 
and so Rebekah sent Jacoli away, and told bim to 
go to her lirntber Laban and stay with him until 
Esau had forgotten his anger. 

JACOB'S LADDER 

J.\coi! set out at once ; but when night fell he 
was not nearly at bis journey's end, and so he lay 
down on the ground, and, making himself a pil- 
low of stones, be fell asleep. While he slept he 
had a wonderful dream. He thought he saw a 
ladder set up on the earth, whose top reached to 
heaven ; and on the ladder were angels, and God 
himself sto(-id at the top of the ladder and prom- 
ised to bless him, and to .give him the land upon 
wdiich he was then l}ing. 

Wdien Jacob awoke be felt sure that God bad 
been with bim, and he took the stmies which had 
fdrnied his jiillow, and made a pillar of them to 
Cjod's honor, and he called the place Bethel, which 
means the "House of God." 

JACOB'S TWICE-EARNED WTFE 

Then Jacob went on with his journey, and when 
he came to Laban's home and told him that he 
was Rebekah's son be was treated with great 
kindness. He agreed to work for Laban, and in- 
stead of asking wages, he begged that Laban 
would give him his youngest daughter, Rachel, 
for a wife. Laban said he must first work seven 
years for her ; but when Jacob had done this La- 
ban would not' let him marry Rachel, but gave 
him her elder sister, Leah, instead. 

Jacob loved Rachel so dearly that he agreed to 
serve Laban another seven years if he would then 
allow him to marry her, for most men in those 
days had more than one wife. This he did, and 
Rachel became bis wife. After that Jacob con- 
tinued to work for Laban, who rewarded him by 
giving him cattle and sheep. ' 




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OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



125 



Jacob was very prosperous, and became so rich 
that Laban was envious of him, and treated bini 
so unkindly that Jacob collected all his properly 
and set out secretly with bis wives and children 
to return to his own countrw Laban pursued 
him, but God would not allow him to hurt Jacob 
in any way. When he had gone some distance 
on his way he heard that Esau was coinini,' to 
meet him. bringing many armed men with him. 
and Jacob prayed God to save him and his family 
from Esau's anger. And in order to soften his 
brother's heart he divided his flocks and herds 
and sent presents of them to Esau. 

"ISRAEL, A PRINCE OE GOD" 

For some time it happened that Jacob was left 
quite alone, and God appeared to him, and Jacob 
entreated God to bless him. The Bible tells us 
that he wrestled with God, saying. "I will not let 
thee go, except thou bless me." And God blessed 
him and said that his name should no longer be 
Jacob, but Israel, which means "A Prince of 
God." When Jacob went on to meet his brother 
he was sadly afraid that in his revenge Esau 
might not only harm him, but his wives and chil- 
dren also. He had eleven sons and one daughter, 
and best of all he loved Joseph, who was Rachel's 
only son. 

Jacob put Rachel and her son in what he hoped 
might be a place of safety; but he need have had 
no fear, for as soon as Esau saw his brother he 
forgot all the wrong he had ever done him, and 
only remembered the days when they had loved 
each other dearly, and he put his arms round his 
neck and kissed him, and wept for joy. Soon 
after this God gave Rachel another little son, who 
was called Benjamin, and whom Jacob loved al- 
most as dearly as he loved Joseph, and then, to 
his great grief, Rachel died. 

Not long after this Isaac died; he was a very 
old man, having lived a hundred and eighty years, 
and his sons Esau and Jacob buried him. Jacob 
remained in the land of Canaan, but Esau went 
away, because they were both very rich men, and 
as the riches in those days consisted chiefly of 
sheep and cattle, there would not have been suffi- 
cient pasture-lands to feed their flocks if they had 
remained together. 

JOSEPH 

I TOLD you that Jacob and Rachel had a son called 
Joseph, whom Jacob loved better than any of his 
sons. To show his love for him Jacob made him 
a coat of many colors, which was considere<l a 
great honor in Eastern countries. Joseph's broth- 



ers were very jealous when they found what 
their father had done. They were older than Jo- 
seph, ,ind thought that such a mark of honor 
should have been given to one of them. 

Then Joseph had two wonderful dreams, which 
were the cause of still further jealousy. He 
dreamt that he was binding sheaves of wheat in 
a field with his brothers, and suddenly his sheaf 
stood upright, while (he sheaves his brothers had 
hound stood all around and bowed down to it. In 
the second dream it appeared to him as if the sun 
and moon and eleven stars bowed down to him. 
Joseph told these dreams to his brothers and they 
in their turn told them to their father. They 
thought, no doubt, that Jacob would punish Jo- 
seph for pretending to be greater than they were; 
but Jacob felt the dreams had been sent by God 
as a sign that he meant to raise his son to be a 
great ruler. 

JOSEPH AND HIS BROTHERS 

Now, Joseph's brothers were shepherds, and Ja- 
cob sent thorn with their Hocks lo a place called 
Shechem. A\'hcn thev had Ijeen gone some little 
time he called Joseph to him antl told him to go 
and \'isit his brothers and see if thev and their 
thicks were well and thriving. But when Joseph 
came to Shechem he could not find them, and 
wandered about for some time until he met a 
man who told him that thev had left that place 
and driven their flocks to the pastures of Dothan. 

Joseph followed them and presently saw his 
brothers in the distance. They saw him, too, 
when he was still a long way off, and determined 
to be revenged upon him because their father 
loved him better than he did them. 

At first they could not make up their minds 
how to punish him, but at last they were so very 
wicked as to say they would kill him and throw 
him down a deep pit and then pretend to their 
father that a wikl beast had killed and eaten him. 

But it happened that one of them, named Reu- 
ben, was not so cruel as the others, and he deter- 
mined to save Joseph. So he persuaded them to 
put him down into the pit without harming him, 
meaning afterward to take Joseph out and send 
him back to his father. So the brothers did as 
Reuben advised them and cast Joseph into an 
empty pit, after taking his coat of many colors 
from him. 

Then they sat down to enjoy their midday 
meal, and before they had finished it they saw a 
company of Ishmaelites coming from (iilead, 
their camels laden with spices and precious 
things. One of the brothers, who was nametl 
Judah, said to the rest: "What profit is it if we 



126 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



him to 



sla}' our brother ? Come and let us sel 
the Ishmaelites." 

So they drew Joseph out of the pit, and sold 
him for twenty pieces of silver to the Ishmaelites, 
who carried him away to Egypt. 

Reuben had not sat down to eat with the others, 
so he did not know what they had done, and when 
he found that Joseph was no longer in the pit he 
was terribly grieved. But the cruel brothers took 
Joseph's coat and dipped it in the blood of a kid 
and carried it to their father and told him that a 
wild beast had devoured him. And for many a 
long day Jacob mourned for his dear son, and 
would not be comforted. 

JOSEPH IN EGYPT 

The Ishmaelites carried Joseph into Egypt with 
them and sold him to one of Pharaoh's offi- 
cers, named Potiphar. He served Potiphar so 
faithfully that in time he made him the head of 
his household; but he offended Potiphar's wife, 
who was a very wicked woman, and she accused 
him falsely and persuaded her husband to put 
him in prison. 

It happened that Pharaoh's chief butler and 
chief baker were in the same prison, and they 
each had a very strange dream, which Joseph 
was able to interpret for them. The butler's 
dream meant that in three days' time he would 
be forgiven and sent for to serve at Pharaoh's 
table; but the baker's dream, he said, meant that 
he would be hanged. This came to pass, and be- 
fore the butler left the prison Joseph begged him 
to remember him and try to obtain his pardon. 

But the butler forgot Joseph until it chanced 
that Pharaoh dreamed two very strange dreams, 
which no one could interpret for him. Then the 
butler remembered Joseph, and he told Pharaoh 
how truthfully he had interpreted both his and 
the baker's dream. 

So Pharaoh sent for Joseph and told him his 
two dreams. The first was that seven fat kine — 
that is, cattle — were feeding in a meadow and 
that seven lean kine came and ate them up. And 
the second dream was of seven good ears of corn 
which sprang up, but were devoured by seven 
thin ones. Joseph said these dreams meant that 
there would be seven years of plenty followed by 
seyen years of famine. And he advised Pharaoh 
to choose some wise man to buy and store up all 
the corn he could during the years of plenty, so 
that during the years of famine there might still 
be corn in Egypt. 

Pharaoh chose Joseph himself to do this, and 
he was so pleased with his sense and wisdom that 
he made him ruler over all the land. 



WHAT JOSEPH DID FOR HIS FATHER 
AND BROTHERS 

When the years of famine came Jacob and his 
family were in want of bread, and so he sent ten 
of his sons into Egypt to buy corn. They were 
brought before Joseph, who knew them again at 
once, but they did not recognize him. He pre- 
tended he thought they were spies, and ques- 
tioned them about their home. When they told 
him that they had a brother, Benjamin, at home, 
he said they were to go and fetch him, to prove 
that what they had said was true. He kept one 
brother, Simeon, and told them that he should be 
a hostage until they brought Benjamin. Then he 
bade his servants fill their sacks with corn, and 
the money they paid for it he ordered to be hid- 
den in the sacks' mouths. 

So the brothers went home ; but when they told 
Jacob that the ruler they had seen in Egypt 
wished them to bring Benjamin to him he would 
not consent. But at last, when all the corn was 
eaten, Jacob was obliged to let him go, for the 
brothers would not go to Egypt without him. 

When they came before Joseph and he saw 
Benjamin, he longed to take him in his arms and 
weep for joy, for Benjamin was his very own 
brother, the son of Rachel, Joseph's mother. He 
asked the brothers if their father was well, and 
was very kind and gracious to them. 

In the morning their sacks w^ere filled with 
corn, and they set out on their way home. But 
Joseph had ordered one of his servants to hide 
his silver cup in Benjamin's sack, and when the 
brothers had gone a little way he sent after them 
and accused them of stealing it. The brothers 
denied having stolen the cup; but when search 
was made it was found in Benjamin's sack, so 
they were taken back and brought before Joseph. 
Joseph said he would keep Benjamin as a slave, 
but that the others might go back to their home. 

Then Judah spoke very earnestly to Joseph and 
begged him to send Benjamin home and to keep 
him as a slave in his stead. He told Joseph that 
Jacob had already lost one son whom he dearly 
loved, and that if they went home without Ben- 
jamin the poor old man would die of grief. Then 
Joseph burst into tears and confessed that he was 
their brother. 

The brothers were ashamed to look at him; 
but Joseph told them that he forgave them all 
their wicked treatment of him, since God had 
ordered all things for the best. He sent them to 
fetch their father and their flocks and herds into 
Egypt, so that they might have plenty to eat 
while the famine lasted. 

At first Jacob could not believe the good news; 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



127 



but when he saw the wagons Joseph had sent to 
carry him and his possessions to Egypt he said : 
"It is enough ! Josepli in\- son is ^xt ahve." [o- 
seph went to meet his father, and greetcil him 
very tenderly, and took him into Pharaoh's pres- 
ence. And Pharaoh bade Josepli choose the best 
part of the land of Egypt and giye it to his father 
and brothers. And Jacob blessed Pharaoh. 

Jacob liyed in Egypt for seyenteen years, and 
before he died he made Joseph promise that he 
would not bury him in Eg\'pt, hut would carr\- 
him back to the land of Canaan. Joseph Ii\-ed to 
be a hundred and ten years old, and when he died 
he also wished to be buried in Canaan. This was 
eyentually done, but he was at first buried in 
Eg>-pt- 

THE CHILDREN OF ISR.VEL 
IN BONDAGE 

Many years after Joseph's death a very wicked 
king reigned oyer the land of Egypt, who was also 
called Pharaoh. The Children of Israel, as Ja- 
cob's descendants were called, had increased so 
greatly in numbers that this wicked Pharaoh was 
afraid they would one day rise up against him 
and take his kingdom from him. He had treated 
the Israelites so cruelly that it was no wonder 
he was afraid of them ; and now he ordered all 
the little boy-babies to be taken and thrown into 
the river Nile, so that they < ould not grow up 
and fight against him. There was one poor 
mother who loved her little baby so dearly that 
she managed to hide him for three months; and 
then, because she could do so no longer, she made 
a little basket of bulrushes and put her baby in it 
and hid the basket among the reeds on the river 
bank. 

MOSES AND PHARAOH 

There he was found by Pharaoh's daughter 
when she and her maidens came to bathe in the 
river, and he was so pretty and sweet that she 
could not bear to think that he might be drowned 
by her father's cruel soldiers, and so she deter- 
mined to take him home and bring him up as her 
own son. The little boy was afterward called 
Moses, and he was chosen by God to deliver the 
Children of Israel from bondage. 

He grew up in Pharaoh's household, but when 
he became a man he would no longer be called 
the son of Pharaoh's daughter, for his own 
dear mother, who had come to the palace to he his 
nurse, had taught him that it was wicked to be a 
worshiper of idols, and that there was but one 
true and living God. 

Pharaoh was very angry with Moses because 



he took part with the opprcsspfi' people; but 
Moses did not fear his wrath, ii-.v God himself 
h:id a|)pe:ired l(i him (in .Mmint Ilnreh in a flam- 
ing bush, and had Idld him 0, >^n to Pharaoh and 
bid hiin, ill ( iod's naiiie, tn let the people go. 

THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT 

Pii.\RAOii answered proudly, "Who is the Lord 
th;it I should obey his voice?" and he would not 
let the people go. Then, to punish him, (jod sent 
terrible plagues upon Egypt. He turned all the 
waters into blood, so that the people had nothing 
to drink. But still Pharaoh refused to let the 
Israelites go. Then (!"iod sent a plague of frogs, 
and Pharaoh sent for Mnses and his brother 
Aaron and told them that, if they would ask God 
to make the plague cease, he would let the Israel- 
ites go. 

But no sooner was this done than Pharaoh 
again hardened his heart, and treated the Israel- 
ites more cruelly than ever. Then God sent 
plagues of lice and flies, and after that he caused 
all the cattle belonging to the Egyptians to die, 
and then he sent terrible boils which covered the 
bodies of lioth men and beasts. He also sent 
plagues of hail and thunder and darkness, and 
locusts, which ate up every blade of grass in the 
country. Several times Pharaoh sent for Moses 
and Aaron and jjromised that if only the plague 
should cease he would let the Children of Israel 
gi5 ; but as soon as the plagues were taken away 
he forgot his promise and would not let them go. 

Then God sent the worst punishment of all. 
He bade the Israelites kill a lamb and sprinkle 
some of its blood on the door-posts of their 
houses, for he was about to send his angel to 
kill all the first-born of the Egyptians, and he 
would bid the messenger of death pass by those 
houses on which the blood was sprinkled. And 
at midnight the destroying angel passed through 
the land, and when morning dawned there was 
not one Egyptian home in which there was not 
some one dead. 

THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL SET FREE 

Then at length the Egyptians bade the Chil- 
dren of Israel depart in haste, for they were 
afraid that they would all die if they kept them 
any longer. So the Israelites set out, taking with 
them their cattle and all they possessed, and also 
they carried away the body of Joseph to bury it 
in the land of Canaan. And God gave them a 
pillar of cloud to guide them by day and a pillar 
of fire to guide them by night. 

They had not gone very far when Pharaoh be- 



128 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



gan to wish that he had refused to let them go, 
and he called all his soldiers together, and or- 
dered them to bring chariots and horses, for he 
meant to pursue the Israelites and bring them 
back to be his slaves. 

When the Israelites knew that Pharaoh and 
his hosts were pursuing them they were very 
much afraid, for they had no weapons with which 
to fight and before them stretched the waters of 
the Red Sea, so that there seemed to be no way 
of escape. They began to complain and to be 
sorry that they had ever left Egypt, for they had 
brought away with them many jewels and golden 
ornaments which God had told them to take from 
the Eg}-ptians, and they thought that this must 
have made them very angry, and they would be 
still more cruel than they had been before. So 
the Israelites said to Moses, "Was it because 
there were no graves in Egypt that thou hast 
brought us out?" But Moses answered, "Fear 
not. The Lord shall fight for you." 

God then bade Moses tell the Israelites to go 
forward. They did so ; but it seemed to them 
they must be marching straight into the sea. But 
wdien they reached it God sent a strong east wind 
that divided the waters so that they stood up like 
a wall on the right hand and on the left, and the 
Israelites passed over to the other side of the sea 
on dry ground. The Egyptians followed closely 
behind them, but when the last of the Israelites 
were in safety' God sent another wind which 
caused the waters to roll back again, and Pha- 
raoh and his horsemen were all drowned in the 
sea. 

IN THE WILDERNESS 

The Israelites had no further fear of pursuit 
after God had destroyed Pharaoh and his hosts ; 
hut very soon they again began to complain be- 
cause they were very often hungry and thirsty. 
For three days they had been traveling through 
a desert place and had had no water at all, and 
then when they came to some it was so bitter 
that they could not drink it. But God showed 
Moses a certain tree and told him to cast it into 
the water, and when he had done this it became 
quite sweet. 

Throughout the whole of the time the Children 
of Israel were wandering through the wilderness 
toward the Promised Land they never ceased 
murmuring against Moses for having brought 
them out of the land of Egypt. They seemed to 
forget all the hardships they had borne there, and 
to remember only the discomforts they met with 
on their journey: and for this reason God be- 
came so angry with them at length that he said 
only a chosen few out of all that had left the 



land of Egypt should ever reach the land of 
Canaan, and' so he kept them wandering in the 
wilderness for a great many years, and it was 
the children of those who had been in bondage 
in Egypt who finally possessed the Promised 
Land. 

But during all those long years of wandering 
God was very good to them. When they were 
hungry he sent down bread from heaven. This 
bread they called "manna." It fell down like 
dew, and became round, and white, and solid, so 
that they could gather it up. God said they were 
to gather it fresh every day, except on the sixth 
day, when they were ordered to gather sufficient 
to last for the" Sabbath day also. After a time they 
grumbled because they grew tired of eating 
manna, and then God sent them quails to eat. 

THE TEN COMMANDMENTS 

Another time when they were almost dying of 
thirst God bade Moses strike the rock which was 
near him, and at once a stream of clear fresh 
water burst forth. When their enemies attacked 
them God fought their battles for them, and gave 
them the victory, and yet they were not grateful. 
Then God determined to speak to them again 
through Moses, and remind them of all he had 
done for them. . And so, when they came to the 
wilderness of Sinai, God spoke to Moses from 
Mount Sinai so that all the people could hear and 
believe. God's voice was like a trumpet, and the 
whole mountain was hid with fire and trembled. 
And then God called to Moses to come to him 
upon the mountain. He went, but the sight of 
God's majesty was so terrible that even that 
brave man Moses shook with fear. God gave 
him two tables of stone, upon which he had 
written the Ten Commandments, which he or- 
dered the people to keep faithfully. 

He also said that the people were to build a 
large tabernacle for his service and to make an 
altar and offer burnt sacrifices to him upon it. 
And he told Moses to anoint Aaron and his sons 
for priests, and to clothe them with garments 
suitable to be worn in the house of God. In the 
tabernacle was to be placed the Ark of the Cov- 
enant, which was a small chest covered with 
gold ; the lid of it was to be called "the mercy- 
seat" ; and the tables of law which the Lord had 
given to Moses were to be placed in the ark. 

Moses was speaking with God upon Mount 
Sinai for so long a time that the people again 
began to doubt. They came to Aaron and said: 
"This Moses, the man that brought us out of the 
land of Egypt, we wot not what is become of 
him." They thought that if Moses had been taken 



OLD TESTAMENT STORJKS FOR CHILDREN 



129 



away God would be sure to forsake tlicni, and so 
they asked Aaron to give them otlier gods to 
worship. 

THE GOLDEN CALF 

Aaron bade them bring their golden ornaments 
to him and he would make them an idol. And 
when they had done so he melted down tlie orna- 
ments and made the figure of a ealf from the 
gold and set it up, telling the people to worship 
that. 

The Bible docs not tell us how sueh a good 
man as Aaron, a man whom (iod had chosen for 
his own priest, came to connuit such a terrible 
sin. Some people think that he ma)' have made 
the calf in mockery, just to sec if the peoi)le 
would be so foolish as to worship a senseless 
image. Wdien iMoses came down from the mount 
and saw the people worshiping the goMcn calf 
he was so angry that he threw^ down the two ta- 
bles of stone on which the laws were written, 
and broke them. And he took the golden calf 
and burned it and ground it into powder, and he 
mixed the powder \vith water and forced the 
people to drink it. 

And then !Moses called to the people and said : 
"\\'ho is on the Lord's side? Let him come unto 
me." And all the sons of Levi came and stood 
by his side, and he bade them take swords and 
kill all those wicked men wdio preferred to wor- 
ship idols instea<l of the good God who bad 
treated them so kindly and cared for them in 
their wanderings. 

Now that Moses had broken the tables of stone 
God had given them, there were no laws for the 
people; but God told him to make tw(j other ta- 
bles of stone and to bring them to him upon 
Mount Sinai. 

Moses did this, and God came down from hea\'en 
in a cloud and spoke with Moses and told him to 
write his laws upon the tables of stone. Moses 
was forty days and nights with the I^ord njion 
Mount Sinai, and he wrote the words of the ten 
commandments upon the tables of stone as ( iod 
told them to him. And when he came down the 
mountain with the commandments his face shone 
with the glory of the Lord, so that the people 
were afraid, and Moses had to cover his face 
with a veil while he taught them God's com- 
mandments. 

Soon after that Aloses orflercd the tabernacle 
to be built, and the people brought all kinds of 
precious things and gave them to the builders, so 
that God's house should be as beautiful as it was 
holy. This they did, hoping that Gofl would ac- 
cept their free-will offerings and forgive them 
for all their former wickedness. 



THE PROMISED LAND 

When the Lsraeliles came near to the land of 
C anaan, ]\1oses sent twelve spies into the coun- 
lr\-. that they nnght l)ring back word if the peo- 
ple living there were strong or weak ; and he also 
told them to l)ring some of the fruit of the land 
with them, so that the\- might know if it were a 
rich Land, fit for them to make their home in. 

I he twelve spies spent forty days searching 
the land, and then they returned bringing with 
them grapes and pomegranates and figs. The 
grapes were so fine that it took two men to carry 
a single bunch, ami the spies said that (_'anaan 
was a beautiful country, very rich in all kinds of 
fruit ; but that the people living there were so 
strong that the Israelites would not be able to 
defeat them, and that it would be better, there- 
fore, for them all to turn back. 

Two of the sjjies, named Joshua and Caleb, 
were anxinus that the Israelites should attack the 
Canaanites, and they said that they were sure 
thev would be able to defeat them. But the peo- 
])le wonid not listen to them, and refused to fight 
the Canaanites. 

(iod was ^■erv angr\' with the Children of Is- 
rael, ,'ind said that as a punishment he would 
cause ihcm tei wander many )"ears longer in the 
wilderness. 

I told \()U the Chililrcn of Israel had built a 
tabernacle in which to worship the Lord. Ciod 
now wished to appoint special priests to conduct 
the services held in it, and so he told Moses to 
call together tlie twelve tribes, and bid the head 
of each tribe write his name U[)on a rod, and that 
Moses should then place the twelve rods in the 
tabernacle. i\nd God said that he would cause 
one of the rods to blossom, and that the man 
whose name was written on the rod would be the 
man who was to serve him in his tabernacle. 

,\aron had been chosen by God to represent the 
tribe of Levi, and. when IMoses went into the tab- 
ernacle the morning after the twelve rods had 
been placdl there, he found that Aaron's rod had 
blossomed, and it bore fruit. 

God then told Moses that Aaron and his sons 
were to act as priests in the tabernacle, and that 
all those belonging to the tribe of Levi were to 
assist him with the services. When Aaron died, 
his son Hagar was chosen to take his place. 

THE PLAGUE OF SERPENTS 

The Chililren of Israel still continued to mnr- 
nun- against Moses for having brought them out 
of the land of Egypt, and once God was so angry 
with them that he sent fiery serpents among them, 



130 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



and the serpents bit them so that numbers of the 
people died. Then they be.san to repent, and to 
beg Moses to ask God to forgive them and take 
away the plague of serpents. 

God told Moses to make a serpent of brass and 
set it upon a pole. And when he had done this 
he placed it where all the people could see it, and 
told them that whenever a man was bitten by a 
serpent he had but to look at the brazen serpent 
and his life would be spared. And it happened 
just as Moses had told them. So God once more 
forgave his ungrateful people. 

HOW BALAAM WAS REBUKED 

In the course of their wanderings the Israelites 
came to the plains of Moab; and the King of 
Moab was afraid, because he thought they had 
come to conquer him and his people, and so he 
sent to a prophet called Balaam, and asked him to 
curse the people of Israel. But God said to Ba- 
laam : "Thou shalt not curse the people ; for they 
are blessed." And he forbade Balaam to go with 
the messengers the King of Moab had sent. Ba- 
laam disobeyed God and went with the princes of 
Moab. 

He was riding upon an ass, and when he came 
to a narrow path the ass suddenlv turned aside 
and went into a field, for God had sent an angel 
to bar the way, and the poor dumb creature saw 
the angel and would not try to pass him, though 
Balaam struck her again and again. .Vt length 
God gave the ass speech, and she asked Balaam 
why he treated her so cruelly. After the ass had 
spoken God allowed Balaam to see the angel,_and 
the angel told him that had the ass not turned 
aside he would have killed him. The angel also 
told him that God wished him to go to the King 
of Moab, but that, instead of cursing the Children 
of Israel, he was to bless them, and this Balaam 
did. 

THE DEATH OF iMOSES 

MosES was not allowed to lead the Children of 
Israel into the Promised Land. When he was a 
hundred and twenty years old God told him to 
appoint Joshua to take his place, and then God 
bade him go up to the top of Mount Pisgah. And 
there in that lonely place he died, and the Bible 
tells us that God himself buried him, so that no 
one ever knew where his grave was. 

Now that i\Ioses was dead, and loshua had 
charge of the people, he made up his mind to try 
and lead them into the land of Canaan as quickly 
as he could. 

He sent two spies into the town of Jericho to 
find out the best means of attacking it. These 



men ^\ere very nearly caught, for the king found 
out that there were two Israelites in the city, and 
searched for them. But they were lodging in the 
house of a woman named Rahab, and she hid 
them on the roof, covering them over with flax, 
and when night came she let them down from her 
window, and they escaped and went back to tell 
Joshua all they had found out. 

On their way to Jericho the Israelites had to 
pass the river Jordan; but God made a passage 
through the river for them, so that they passed 
over on dry ground. 

At length they came before the city of Jericho, 
and Joshua bade the priests take the Ark of the 
Covenant and march round the walls, blowing 
trumpets, while the people all shouted for joy, 
because Joshua said God had given them the city 
walls, and on the seventh day, as the priests blew 
a great blast upon the trumpets, the walls fell 
down, and the Israelites rushed in and destroyed 
both the palace and the people. Rahab and her 
familv were the only persons saved. 

God now allowed the Children of Israel to pos- 
sess the whole of the land of Canaan, and he or- 
dered Joshua to divide it among them. 

THE ISRAELITES TRIUMPH OVER 
THEIR ENEMIES 

God had brought the Israelites safely into the 
land of Canaan ; but, instead of being thankful to 
him and devoting themselves to his service, they 
were frequently very wicked, and to punish them 
God allowed their enemies to oppress them for a 
time. 

Then they prayed to God to help them, and he 
spoke to a prophetess named Deborah, and taught 
her how her people might be delivered. Deborah 
sent for a man named Barak, and told him that 
God wished him to lead the Israelites to a cer- 
tain place, and that he would there deliver their 
enemies into his hands. But Barak was afraid 
and would not go unless Deborah went with him. 
So Deborah went, and when they came to the 
river Kishon she bade Barak attack the enemy, 
and he did so and defeated them. 

The name of their captain was Sisera, and 
when he saw that his armies were defeated he 
sprang out of his chariot, and ran away on foot 
to hide himself. Barak, thinking that he must be 
in one of the chariots, pursued them, and so it 
seemed as though Sisera was to escape. In his 
flight he came to the tents of Fleber the Kenite, 
and thought to take refuge there and rest for 
a while, for he had no quarrel with him. 

Jael, the wife of Heber, came out to meet him, 
and took him into her tent, and then covered him 



OLD TESTAMENT SrORll-:S EOR CHILDREN 



131 



with a cloak, so that if liis enemies came lo look 
for him while he was sleeping llie\' would not 
find him. But when Sisera was asleep (iod spoke 
to lael and told her that Sisera was his eneni\-, 
and that she had been chosen as (iod's means of 
justice. And so Jael took a tent nail and a ham- 
mer, and struck the nail into Sisera's forehead 
as he slept, so that he died. 

GIDEON LE.\DS ISRAEL 

In this way God delivered Israel from its ene- 
mies. But after a time the Israelites were again 
attacked by a nation called the Midianites, and 
this time a man named Gideon was chosen to 
deliver them, 

God very often chooses quite humble people to 
be the instruments of his will, (iideon was only 
a poor man and very little thought of among the 
Israelites; and so when an angel came to him and 
said that the Lord had chosen him to vanquish the 
Midianites he could not at first believe it. He 
asked the angel to give him some sign that he 
was really God's messenger. 

Gideon prepared some food for his visitor to 
eat, and when he brought it out of the house the 
angel bade him set it upon a rock close by. This 
Gideon did, and then the angel touched it with 
his staff, and at once a fire rose up out of the 
rock and burned the food. Then the angel van- 
ished, and Gideon was afraid, because he thought 
God would punish him, perhaps even with death, 
for having doubted his messenger. 

But God said: "Peace be unto thee: fear not; 
thou shalt not die." And Gideon made an altar 
to God's honor upon the rock on wdiich the food 
had been burned. 

When harvest-time drew near Gideon sent mes- 
sages to all his countrymen to join him, saying 
that he would lead them against the Midianites, 
when the_v came to steal the harvest, as they had 
done for seven years past. 

Gideon was anxious to be quite sure that he 
was the man chosen by God to save Israel, and 
so he asked for another sign. He spread a fleece 
of wool upon the earth and asked, if he really 
were God's chosen servant, that God woidd let 
the night dews fall upon the fleece only, and not 
on the earth. 

In the morning when Gideon went out the 
ground was quite dry; but the fleece was so wet 
with dew that when he wrung it out he filled a 
large bowl with the water. 

He was still not satisfied; perhaps he thought 
the fleece might have become wet by accident : 
so he again spread out a fleece upon the ground, 
and this time he asked God to let dew fall upon all 



the ground, liut Id let the fleece remain dry, as a 
sign thai he w.'is the right man. The next morn- 
ing the gniund w.is wel with dew, while the fleece 
was quite dry, so that Gideon no longer hesitated, 
but led the men uf Israel forth to battle. 

DEFEAT OF THE MIDIANITES 

Hk determined to attack the Midianites by mid- 
night, and he told his soldiers to take torches in 
their hands, but to cover them with earthen pitch- 
ers so that the Midianites could not see the lights, 
and he also bade them take a trumpet each and 
to do exactly as he, Gideon, did. 

When they came to the camp of their enemies 
Gideon blew his trumpet and broke his earthen 
pitcher, and each soldier of his little army of 
three hundred men did the same, so that the 
sleeping enemy awoke to find lights blazing and 
trumpets blaring all round them, and became 
panic-stricken, so that they were very easily over- 
come. 

There was another ver\' brave man, named 
Iephth;di, whom ( iod chose at one time to deliver 
the Israelites from their enemies. Jephthah was 
so anxious to beat his foes that he made a very 
rash vow, not knowing how dearly this was to 
cost him. He vowed to God that, if he would 
allow him to conquer his enemies, he would offer 
u[) to him whatsoever should come first out of 
his house to meet him on his return. 

WHien Jephthah returned, covered with honor 
and glory, for he had defeated his enemies, the 
first person who came out to meet him, singing 
anil making sweet music to show her joy, was his 
own daughter. 

God does not like us to make rash vows; per- 
haps it was for this reason that he punished 
[ephthah in this wa)-. It was his only child, but 
Jephthah did not break his vow, but offered her 
up as a sacrifice to God. 

The Bible does not tell us in what way she 
was sacrificed. It is thought that perhaps she 
was dedicated to God's service, and lived by her- 
self in the mountains, praying, and engaged in 
holy works; but this no one can really tell. 

SAMSON 

After the death of Joshua the people of Israel 
were governed by men called judges. One of 
these judges was called Samson, and he was the 
strongest man that ever lived. When he was 
quite a young man and was on his way to a place 
called timnalh, a young lion sprang out upon 
him, and he killed it without any weapon, just as 
though it had been a goat or a lamb. Soon after- 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



132 

ward he was passing by the same way, and he 
saw that a innnlier of wild bees had swarmed m 
the body of (he lion and made honey there. 

SAMSON'S RIDDLE 

Samson married a daughter of the Ehihstines 
— people wdiD were constantly at war with the 
Israelites. At his marriage he gave a feast, to 
wliich he invited a number of the Philistines, 
and he asked them to answer this riddle; "Out 
of the eater came forth meat, and out of the 
strong came forth sweetness." Samson said they 
should have seven days in which to guess the 
answer to the riddle, and if they were successful 
he promised to give them a large reward. None 
of them could guess the answer, and sa they went 
to Samson's wife and told her that they would 
Inirn her and her father unless she could per- 
suade her husband to tell her the answer to the 
riddle and then tell it to them. 

At first she could not persuade Samson ; Init 
she begged him again and again, until at last he 
told her^ and then she went straight to the Philis- 
tines and told them. So on the seventh day when 
Samson asked them his riddle for the last time, 
the PhiHstines answered: "What is sweeter than 
honey? And wdiat is stronger than a lion?" for 
Samson had been thinking of the lion he had 
killed and tlie bees that had made honey in its 
carcass. Samson was very angry, for he knew 
they must have made his wife tell them the an- 



SAMSON'S FEAT WITH THE FOXES 

In order to be revengefl upon the Phihstines, 
wdio had done him a great injury, Samson once 
caught three hundred foxes and tied them to- 
gether by their tails, and between each pair of 
tails he put a hghted firebrand. Then he turned 
the foxes loose among the cornfields and vine- 
yards belonging to the Philistines, and as tliey 
ran about they set light to the corn and fruit, so 
that the harvest was quite spoiled. 

When the Philistines found out who had done 
this the^' took Samson's wife wdien he was away, 
and were so cruel as to burn both her and her 
father. Samson killed a great many of them 
when he discovered this, and then he went away 
and lived by himself upon the top of a rock called 
Etam. The Philistines followed him there, and 
when the people who lived in those parts asked 
them wdiv they had come they said they had come 
to take Samson, and they ordered the men of 
ludah, as the people were caHed, to go and bind 
Samson and bring him down to them. 



SAMSON'S GREAT STRENGTH 

The men of Judah were afraid to refuse, and 
so they went to Samson and told him what the 
Philistines had said, and after they had promised 
not to kill him themselves, but to give him over 
to the Philistines alive, Samson allowed them to 
bind him with two strong new cords, and then 
went down and was given over to the Philistines. 
The Philistines began to taunt him, but, all in a 
moment, he broke the cords as though they had 
been Inirnt flax, and, stooping, he picked up the 
jaw-bone of an ass and with it killed a thousand 
of the Philistines. Then he threw it away; but 
soon afterward, when he was so thirsty that he 
thought he would die, God caused water to spring 
from a hollow place in the bone, and he was able 
to quench his thirst with it. 

On another occasion Samson was in a city 
called Gaza, and the Philistines closed the gates 
of the city, thinking that Samson could not escape 
them, and that they would be able to find him and 
kill him. But Samson rose up and went to the 
gates, and, seizing them in his arms, carried them 
right away. 

DELILAH P>ETRAYS SAMSON 

The Philistines now began to imderstand that 
tliere was some secret in the great strength Sam- 
son possessed, and that they would never be able 
to overcome him until they had found it out ; so 
they went to a wicked woman, named Delilah, 
and offered her a great deal of money if only she 
could find out wherein his strength lay. 

DeliLih pretended to be friendly with Samson, 
and one day she said: "Tell me, I pray thee, 
wdierein thy great strength lieth, and wherewith 
thou mightest be bound." Samson did not trust 
her quite, so he said: "If they bind me with seven 
green withes that were never dried, then shall I 
be weak, and be as another man." Delilah bound 
him with the green withes, but when she said, 
"The Phihstines be upon thee," he broke his 
bonds quite easily. 

Again she begged him to tell her the cause of 
his strength, and this time he told her that if he 
were bound with new cords he should be just as 
other men ; but when she bound him with new 
cords he broke them as easily as the green withes. 
Next he told her that if she were to weave his 
hair and fasten it to the beam in the room he 
would not be able to resist ; but when she had 
done this, he rose up and went away, carrying 
the beam with him. 

Delilah asked Samson so often that at length 
he grew weary of her questioning and told her 



OLD TP:STAMENT STORIKS F()R CHIl.DRKN 



133 



the truth. He said that liis Iiair had iie\-cr been 
cut snice the day he was born, and that if any one 
were to shave his hcatl he should immerHatcly 
lose his great strength. Delilah told this to the 
Philistines, and when Samson was asleep tboy 
came and cut off his hair, and when he awoke he 
was no longer able to resist them; so the\' bound 
him and put out his eyes, and then set Inm to 
grind corn in prison. 

SAMSOX'S RE\'EXGE AND DEATH 

When he had been in prison some time his hair 
began to grow again, and as it grew bis strength 
gradually came back; but the Philistines did not 
know this. One day they made a great feast in 
honor of their god Dagon, thinking it was this 
god that had given Samson into their hands. 
There were about three thousand people at the 
feast, and as they ate and drank and made merry 
they thought it would be fine sport to send for 
poor, blind Samson so that they could mock him. 
So he was led in and made to stand bietwecn 
two pillars which supported the great building 
in which the feast was being held. Then he 
placed his hands upon the pillars, and wdiile the 
people all mocked him Samson prayed to God to 
strengthen him that he might be avenged on the 
Philistines for all their cruelties to him and the 
Israelites, and he begged God to let him die also. 
God heard his prayer, for when Samson, grasp- 
ing the pillars firmly, bowed himself with all his 
might, the pillars broke and the house fell, and 
every one in it was killed, even Samson himself. 
Samson had been Judge over Israel twenty years. 

RUTH AND NAO^II 

I TOLD you that the land of Canaan was a very 
beautiful and fruitful country; but, in spite of 
this, there were famines there sometimes, wdien 
the people almost died for want of food. 

During one of these famines a certain man 
named Elimelech, who lived in the town of Beth- 
lehem, took his wife Naomi and their two sons 
and went to live in the land of ]\Ioab, because he 
heard there was plenty of food there. 

Elimelech died in Moab, and when his two sons 
grew up they married two women of that coun- 
try, named Ruth and Orpah. But very soon the 
two sons died also. Then Naomi had no friends 
left in that country, except her two daughters- 
in-law. Although they had been brought up to 
worship idols, they were both very kinfl-hearted 
and loved Naomi very dearly, and when their 
mother-in-law said that it was better she should 
return to her own country, Ruth and Orpah said 



that they wnuld g.j wUli her. The famine in 
Canaan was over by this time, and Naomi thought 
that perhaps some of her relations in Bethlehem 
wiiuld be kind to her and provide for her in her 
(dd .age. 

.\nd so Naomi, Ruth, and Orpah set out upon 
their journey together; but as they went Naomi 
reminded them of her poverty anrl begged them 
to go back to their own home and to their own 
gods. She talked to them so earnestly of the 
bard life they would have if they went with her 
that at length Orpah very sadly bade her good-by 
and went back. 

But Ruth would not go, and when Naomi said 
to her, "Behold, th_\- sister-in-law is gone back 
unto her people, and unto her gods; return thou 
after thy sister-in-law," then Ruth answered: 
"Inlreat me not to leave thee, or to return from 
following after thee : for whither thou .goest, I 
will go; ami where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy 
people shall be my people, and thy God my God; 
where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be 
buried." And Ruth said that nothing but death 
should ever part them. 

Then when Nar)mi saw that Ruth really loved 
her better th.an any fine else in the world, she said 
no more ; but allowed her to come with her. 
W'hen thev reached Bethlehem the people who 
had known Naomi in the days of her wealth could 
scarcelv recognize her in the poor old woman 
who had come back to them. 

RUTH'S GLEANING AND WHAT 
CAME OF IT 

It was the time of the barley harvest when 
Naomi and her daughter-in-law came to Bethle- 
hem, and Ruth went to glean in the fields so that 
she and Naomi might be able to lay by a store of 
food for the winter. 

There was a rich man, named Boaz, a relation 
of Elimelech, who owned many fields, and it 
chanced that Ruth went to glean in one of his 
fielfls. When Boaz came into the field he noticed 
Ruth, and asked bis reapers who the strange 
maiclen was. The reapers answered: "It is the 
Moabitish damsel that came back with Naomi 
out of the country of Moab." 

Boaz told his reapers to be kind to her and to 
let fall a few handfuls of grain sometimes when 
they were binding the sheaves, so that Ruth 
might find plenty of grain to carry home. 

And then Boaz spoke to Ruth, and said that he 
had heard of all her goodness to Naomi, and bade 
her glean in his fields, not only wdiile the barley 
harvest lasted, but all through the wheat harvest 
too. 




•34 



OLD TESTAMKNT STURIKS FOR CHILORKN 



135 



Every day the reapers gave Rutli food ami 
drink, more even than she wanted, so that she 
was able to carry some home to her mother-in- 
law. 

When Ruth told Naomi the name of the man 
in whose fields she had gleaned she was very 
glad, and told Ruth that he was a rehuion of 
theirs and would no doubt be kind to them and 
not allow them to come to want. She bade Ruth 
to glean in no other fields but those of Boaz, for 
she was afraid he migiit be offended if she did so. 

All through the harvest-time Boaz watched 
Ruth closely, and saw that she was as good and 
modest as she was beautiful, and so at the end 
of the harvest he asked her to be his wife. How 
happy Naomi was when she knew that her dear 
daughter was to be the wife of this good, kind 
man ! She knew that she and Ruth would never 
be poor or lonely any more, "and she knew also 
that Ruth had deserved the good fortune God had 
given her. Ruth and Boaz had a little son, named 
Obed, and when Obed grew up he was the father 
of Jesse, who was the father of David, a great 
king, about whom I shall tell you a little later on. 



THE PROPHET SAMUEL 

There was once a good woman named Hannah, 
who had no children, but who prayed very ear- 
nestly to God that he would send her a son. She 
said that if God would only listen to her prayer 
she would dedicate the son he sent her to his 
service. And God did hear her prayer and sent 
her a dear little baby boy, whom she called Sam- 
uel. 

When Samuel was old enough, Hannah and 
her husband Elkanah took him to the temple and 
asked the high priest, whose name was Eh, to 
take care of him, and to bring him up to the ser- 
vice of God. So Samuel lived with Eli, and 
helped him when he ministered in the temple. 

It must have been a great grief to Elannah to 
part with her son; but to comfort her for her 
loss God gave her three other sons and two 
daughters. Every year Hannah visited Samuel, 
and brought him a little coat as a present, wdiich 
she herself had made for him. 

Eli, the high priest, had two sons, called 
Hophni and Phinehas, who were very wicked, 
and God wished to warn Eli that he would be 
punished for having allowed his sons to grow up 
as they had, instead of forcing them to behave 
better. God chose little Samuel to carry this mes- 
sage. 

It was night-time, and Eli and Samuel were 
asleep. Suddenly Samuel heard a voice calling 



hnn, and he ran Uj Eli and said, "Here am I," 
Eli bade him go and lie down again, for he had 
not called him. 

Before long Sanniel heard the voice again and 
ran to I'M, sa\ing, "Here am I." And again Eli 
told him to lie down, for he had not called. 

-V third lime Gnd called to Samuel, and then 
lili told him that if he heard the voice again he 
was t(j answer, "S|)eak, Lord; for thy servant 
heareth." 

So Samuel went and lay down again, and when 
he heard the \Tjice again calling: "Samuel, Sam- 
uel," he answered, "Speak ; for thy servant hear- 
eth." 

And God said that he w-as going to visit Eli 
and his sons with a terrible punishment, because 
of the wickedness of Hophni and Phinehas, and 
that the whole of Israel would be made to suffer 
with them. 

In the morning, when Eli asked Samuel what 
God had said to him, he was afraid to tell him; 
but when Eli sternly bade him deliver God's mes- 
sage, he did so. 

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE ARK 
OF THE COVENANT 

Some time afterward the punishment fell. The 
Lraelites and Philistines were at war, and the 
Israelites were afraid that the Ark of the Cov- 
enant nnght he captured, and so they ordered it 
t("j be brought to the camp, thinking it would be 
safe in the midst of the army. Eli's two sons 
came with it, but the Philistines defeated the 
Israelites and captured the ark. And Llophni 
and Phinehas were killed, and thirty thousand 
Israelites besides. When Eli heard the terrible 
news he was so shocked that he fell backward 
from his seat and died. 

The Philistines kept the ark of God for some 
time, hut where\-cr it went sonic misfortune hap- 
pened, and so at length they sent it back to Israel, 
because they were afraid to keep it any longer. 
They returned it in a very strange way. They 
placed it upon a new cart, and beside it they put 
offerings of gold and jewels, and then they al- 
lowed the two cows wdiich they had fastened to 
the cart to take whichever road they chose. And 
the Philistines said that if the cows drew the cart 
towarri Israel then they would believe that the 
misfortunes that had befallen them had been sent 
by the God of Israel; but that if the cows went 
in another direction they would know that what 
had happened had only been Ijy chance. 

But the cows went straight toward Israel, and 
never jjaused until they came to a place called 
Beth-shemesh. The Israelites rejoiced when they 



136 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



saw the ark coming back, and offered up a thank- 
offering to God for his goodness. 

SATvIUEL AS JUDGE 0\'ER ISRAEL 

Samuel became judge over Israel when he grew 
up, and judged the people both wisely and well; 
but when he became old he made his two sons, 
Joel and Abiah, judges also, so tliat they might 
take his place when he was dead. 

Samuel had tauglit these sons how to serve 
God and to deal fairly with the people ; but they 
did not follow in their father's footsteps, for they 
were both dishonest and unjust, and so the people 
were afraid that the land would be ruled very 
badly after Samuel's death. For this reason they 
consulted together and then came to Samuel and 
asked him to appoint a king to rule over them. 

Samuel was very much displeased with them 
and tried to dissuade them. When they said that 
other nations had kings to rule them, Samuel re- 
minded them of the manner in wliich those kings 
treated the people; how they took the possessions 
of the people to give to their friends and favo- 
rites, and forced both the men and women to 
work for them whether they would or no. 

We know that no good king would treat his 
people in the way Samuel said the kings of Israel 
would treat the Israelites ; but it was very dilTer- 
ent in those days, and even at the present time 
Eastern monarchs treat their subjects very dif- 
ferently from the manner in wdiich European 
kings and queens treat theirs. But still the peo- 
ple insisted that they would have a king, and so 
God told Samuel that he would show him the man 
he had chosen to be King of Israel. 



HOW SAUL BECAME KING 

There was a man of the tribe of Benjamin 
named Kish, and this man had lost a number of 
asses, so he sent his son Saul and a servant to 
look for them. Saul was a very handsome man 
and taller tlian any other man in Israel. 

He and his servant searched for tlie asses three 
days, but they could not find them, and at length 
they came to the place where Samuel lived, and, 
knowing him to be a prophet, they went to look 
for him, hoping that he would be able to tell 
them in which direction the asses had strayed. 

Now, God had told Samuel that this would 
happen, and that when Saul came to him he was 
to anoint him, for God had chosen him to be 
king. So Samuel told Saul to trouble no more 
about the asses, as they were already found. 
Then he sent the servant away, and when they 



were alone he took a vessel filled with oil and 
poured it upon Saul's head, thus anointing him 
King over Israel. After that he called all the 
people of Israel together and presented Saul to 
them, and when they saw him they all shouted 
together: "God save the King!" They were 
pleased that such a fine-looking man should have 
been chosen to reign over them. 

When Saul first began to reign he was humble- 
minded, and anxious to serve God faithfully; but 
very soon he grew proud and haughty, and would 
not obey God's will ; and then God sent Samuel 
to him to tell him that he would take the kingdom 
from him. 

Samuel was very grieved that Saul had an- 
gered (jod, for lie loved him and did not wish 
him to lose the kingdom ; but God told him that 
he was to cease mourning for Saul, and to anoint 
another king in his stead. 



THE ANOINTING OF DAVID 

God told Samuel to go to Bethlehem, to the 
house of a man named Jesse, and anoint one of 
his sons to be the future king. Samuel went to 
Bethlehem, and Jesse made seven of his sons pass 
before him ; but, although they were all fine, 
handsome men, God told Samuel he had not 
chosen anv of them. 

Then Samuel asked Jesse if he had no other 
sons, and he said that his youngest son, David, 
was away in the fields, tending the sheep. Samuel 
sent for David, and when he came the prophet saw 
that he was only a little rosy-cheeked shepherd 
boy ; but God said to Samuel, "Arise, anoint him ; 
for this is he." So Samuel anointed David, and the 
Bible tells us that "the Spirit of the Lord came 
upon David from that day forward." David did 
not become king at once, for after Samuel had 
anointed him he went back to his flocks and 
tended them for some time longer. 

David is sometimes called the "Shepherd 
King," and sometimes the "Sweet Singer of Is- 
rael," because he used to sing beautiful songs to 
the music of his harp. Nearly all the Psalms in 
the Bible were composed and sung by King Da- 
vid. 

SAUL AND DAVID 

When David had been anointed by Samuel and 
had gone back to tend his flocks, the Spirit of 
God was always with him — that is to say, God 
put many beautiful thoughts into his mind, so 
that he might become fitted to be King of Israel 
when the right time came. 

But Saul, who had offended God by his disobe- 




> 



J38 OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 

dience, was very unhappy, for God's Spirit no 



^^nger whispered holy and loving words in his 
heart; instead of that, his mind was filled with 
gloomy forebodings, and at times he was so sad 
that he wdshed he could die. Then his servants 
told him of David, the shepherd boy who could 
play so sweetly upon the harp that no one who 
heard him could be sad any longer. 

Saul sent for David, and bade him play to him, 
and the lovelv strains of music soothed Saul s 
heart, so that he forgot all his bitter thoughts 
and was happy once more. 

David was not only very good and very hand- 
some; he was also very brave. Once wdien he 
was minding his sheep a lion came and took a 
lamb from the flock, and David went after it and 
killed it, and saved the poor frightened little 
lamb. Another lime a bear came and took a 
lamb, and David killed the bear also. 



HOW DAVID FOUGHT THE GIANT 

Some of David's brothers were soldiers, and 
they were with the Israelitish army, which was 
drawn up in battle array to fight the Philistines. 
These enemies w-ere much stronger than the Isra- 
elites, and, besides this, they had wdth them a 
giant named Goliath, who was so big and strong 
that the very sight of him made his enemies trem- 
ble. Every day he came out of the ranks of the 
Philistine army and offered to fight any one from 
the army of the Israelites who would come out to 
meet him. But there was not one of the Israel- 
ites who dared to accept the challenge. 

It chanced one day that David had come to 
the camp to bring some food to his brothers, and 
when he heard Goliath's boastful speech he said 
that he would go out and fight him. 

When Saul heard what David intended to do, 
he tried to dissuade him, for he was afraid that 
he would only lose his life without helping his 
country. David then told Saul how he had killed 
the lion and the bear who came to rob his flock, 
and added : "The Lord Who delivered me from 
the lion and the bear wdll deliver me out of the 
hands of this giant." So Saul answered, "Go, 
and the Lord be with thee." 

Saul would have given David armor to wear 
and would have had him take a sword and a 
spear; but the little shepherd boy had never worn 
armor nor fought wdth a sword or spear-, so he 
said he would take only the weapons he under- 
stood. He went to a brook and chose five smooth 
pebbles and put them into the bag in which he 
generally carried his provisions; then he took his 
sling in his hand, and went to meet the giant. 



When Goliath saw him coming he laughed 
scornfully, for he was angry that the Israelites 
should have chosen such a champion to fight 
against him. He said that he would tear David 
to pieces, and give his flesh to the fowls of the 
air and the beasts of the field. 

David answered the giant's boastful words very 
modestly. He said : "I come against thee in the 
name of the Lord of hosts. This day will the 
Lord deliver thee into mine hand, and I will 
smite thee, that all the earth may know that there 
is a God in Israel." You see, he did not attempt 
to take the honor of the deed he was about to do 
to himself. He knew that he could not overcome 
the giant unless God helped him. 

When David had finished speaking he took a 
stone from his bag and put it in his sling, and 
slung it at the giant, and struck him in the fore- 
head, so that he fell down dead. Then David ran 
to him and, taking his great sword, he cut off the 
giant's head. 

When the Philistines saw what had happened 
the}' turned and fled, for they knew that the God 
of Israel must be more powerful than their own 
gods, and that they could not fight against him. 
The Israelites pursued the Philistines for some 
distance and took a great deal of spoil from their 
tents, for the Philistines were so much afraid 
that they did not wait to carry anything away 
with them. 

David took the head of Goliath, and brought it 
to Jerusalem ; and Abner, one of the captains of 
the army, took David to Saul and told the King 
how he had saved Israel. Saul was so pleased 
wdth him that he said he would have him to live 
near him always, and that he must not think of 
returning to his father's house or of being a 
shepherd any more. 



THE FRIENDSHIP OF DAVID 
AND JONATHAN 

So David lived with King Saul, and in his pal- 
ace he learned to know Jonathan, Saul's son. 
David and Jonathan grew to love each other 
very dearly. Jonathan loaded his friend with 
rich gifts, and David would willingly have died 
to save Jonathan's life. Their friendship lasted 
all their lives, in spite of the many things which 
happened that might have made them enemies. 

David became a soldier, and fought so valiantly 
for his country that Saul made him head over all 
his army. The Philistines were always harassing 
the Israelites, stealing their goods and carrying 
awav captives, and on one occasion, after Saul 
and David had gone to punish them for one of 




lJAVir> AND (.l)L[ATII 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



139 



these raids, Saul became very jealous of David. 
As Saul and David were returning' from battle, 
having defeated the Philistines and killed great 
numbers of them, the women came oiU to meet 
them, singing and dancing, and the words they 
sang were these : "Saul hath slain his thousands 
and David his ten thousands." 



THE CRUEL JEALOUSY OF SAUL 

From that day Saul hated David, for he knew 
the people loved him better than the)- tlid their 
king, and he determined to kill him. Soon after- 
ward one of his fits of melancholy came upon 
Saul, and he sent for David to come and soothe 
him with sweet music : but while David was play- 
ing Saul took his ja\'elin — which is a kind of 
spear— and flung it at him, hoping to kill him. 
David escaped, and Saul pretended to be sorry 
for his anger and to be anxious to atone for it. 

He told David that he would allow him to 
marry his daughter; but first, in order to prove 
that he was worthy to be the son-in-law of a 
king, he must distinguish himself in battle. So 
Saul sent him to fight the Philistines, hoping that 
he would be killed. But David again defeated 
the Philistines, and returned to marry Saul's 
daughter. 

Jonathan was much grieved that his father 
should behave so cruellj- and unjustlv to his 
friend, and he spoke so earnestly to Saul about 
him, reminding him how good and brave David 
was, that Saul felt ashamed of his wicked treat- 
ment of him, and promised Jonathan that he 
would not trv to take David's life again. But 
very soon his jealousy returned, and then he 
again tried to kill David. 

One day he sent some soldiers to David's house, 
ordering them to watch him, and, if he tried to 
leave the house, to kill him. But David's wife 
saved his life. She let him down from the win- 
dow by a rope, and then made a figure like a 
man and put it in bed, and pretended that it was 
David, and that he was ill. The soMiers went to 
Saul and told him that David was ill, and then 
Saul ordered them to kill him as he lay sick in 
bed; but when they went to obev his orders they 
found that there was no man in the bed at all, 
but just a senseless figure. 

Sometimes Jonathan was able to save David's 
life, and this good friend never ceased to watch 
Saul and to find out his intentions, so that he 
might warn David if danger was at hand. Jona- 
than was not jealous of his friend, although he 
knew that at Saul's death David would be made 
king. He made an agreement with David that 



he woukl serve him when that time came and be 
second to him in the kingdom. 

GENEROSITY OF DAVID TOWARD SAUL 

Although Saul was always trying to kill David, 
on many occasions David behaved very gene- 
rously to him. There were some six hundred sol- 
diers who had followed David, when he was 
obliged to hide from Saul in desert places, and 
Some of these soldiers came to him one day and 
told him that Saul, who had been fighting the 
Philistines, had Iain down to rest in a cave close 
1)\', and that he was quite alone, so that David 
could easily kill him. David crept up to Saul and 
cut a piece of cloth from his cloak, and then, 
when Saul awoke and was going away, he called 
to him and showed him the cloth, telling him 
how easily he might have killed him had he 
wished to do so. 

Saul was very much touched, and he called 
David his "son," and wept bitterly to think how 
cruel and revengeful he had been, while David 
had shown himself so generous and forgiving 
toward him. "Thou art more righteous than I,'' 
he said, "for thou hast rewarded me good, 
whereas I have rewarded thee evil." 

But even after this Saul again pursued David, 
and once more David spared his life. For as Saul 
lav sleeping once in the midst of his army, the 
sentries who should have been keeping watch 
were sleeping too, and so David crept up to Saul 
and took his spear and a jar of water that stood 
near. Then he went away and climbed a hill a 
little way off, and when the soldiers awoke in the 
morning he called to them and showed them the 
spear, and rebuked them for guarding the King 
S'j carelessly. 

THE DEATH OF SAUL 

At length Saul died, and in a very sad manner, 
too. He and his sons and his army had been fight- 
ing the Philistines, and the Philistines defeated 
them, and killed Jonathan and two other sons of 
Saul and wounded the King himself. Then Saul 
bade his armor-bearer take a sword and kill him; 
but the man would not, and so Saul drew his 
sword and killed himself. 

When the news was brought to David he did 
not rejoice because his enemy was dead. He only 
remembered the kindnesses Saul had done him 
when he was a humble shepherd boy, and he 
grieved very much that his end should have been 
so sad. For Jonathan he mourned more deeply, 
and for a long time refused to be comforted for 
his loss. 



140 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



DAVID AND HIS REBELLIOUS SON 

After Saul's death David went to a place called 
Hebron, in the land of Judah, and the people of 
Judah anointed him king. But Abner, the cap- 
tain of Saul's army, proclaimed Saul's son Iving 
of Israel, and so it was not for some time that 
David became king over the wdnole of Israel. 
During that time Abner was continually leading 
his soldiers against David's soldiers ; but at 
length, when Abner found that David's army was 
so much stronger than his, he advised his follow- 
ers to acknowledge David as their king, remind- 
ing them how bravelv he had once fought for 
them against the Philistines, and how necessary 
it was to have a king to defend them against 
those enemies who had been strong enough to 
beat Saul's army and kill him and three of his 
sons. 

So at length David was made King of all Is- 
rael. One of the first things he did was to go to 
Jerusalem, which had been taken by a people 
called the Jebusites, and when he had conquered 
the Jebusites he brought the Ark of the Covenant 
to Jerusalem, and then he laid aside his kingly 
robes, and acted as a priest of God, ministering 
to him humbly, though joyfully, clad simply in a 
linen garment, such as the humblest priest might 
have worn. God was very pleased with David, 
and would have blessed hitn all his life long if 
only he had continued to serve him faithfully. 
But when David had been king for some time he 
began to forget that it is a king's duty to put the 
welfare of his people before his own wishes. 

He had power to do as he chose, and very often 
he used that power in a way he should not have 
done. 

DAVID AND BATH-SHEBA 

David saw a very beautiful woman named Bath- 
sheba, and made up his mind to marry her. 
When he heard that she was married already he 
did a very wicked and cruel thing. He sent her 
husband, who was called Uriah, to fight in one of 
his battles, and ordered him to be placed where 
the arrows of the enemy would be sure to reach 
and kill him. 

As soon as David heard that he was killed he 
allowed Bath-sheba a short time in which to 
mourn for her husband and then he married her 
himself. 

XATHAX REPROVES DAVID 

No one knew of David's wickedness but One — 
that One was God, and he sent a prophet called 
Nathan to reprove David. 



When Nathan came before the King he said 
that he had come to ask justice for a poor man, 
and he told this story: There was once a rich 
man, he said, who had everything that he could 
possibly desire, and flocks and herds in plenty, 
and there was a poor man who had only one little 
lamb, which he loved more dearly than anything 
on earth. One day the rich man had a friend to 
visit him, and wished to make a feast for him. 
He would not take a sheep or a Iqmb from his 
own flocks, but he seized the one little lamb be- 
longing to his poor neighbor, and killed it and 
dressed it and set it before his friend. 

David was very angry when he heard this 
storv, and he said to Nathan: "As the Lord liv- 
eth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely 
die." Then Nathan pointed at the King and said: 
"Thou art the man." He reminded him how he 
had taken the one person Uriah had to love him 
from him, and how he had killed Uriah, just as 
surely as though his own hand had struck the 
blow. And in a moment David saw how wicked 
he had been. He would have been very glad in- 
deed then if only he could have brought Uriah 
back to life again and made him happy with his 
dear wife to love him. But it was too late. Da- 
vid fasted and prayed and begged God to forgive 
him, and though God did forgive him at length, as 
he always forgives those who are really sorry for 
their sins, yet David could never forget his own 
wickedness or cease to be sorry for what he had 
done. 

THE SORROWFUL STORY OF DAVID 
AND ABSALOM 

David had a son named Absalom, whom he loved 
very dearly. The Bible tells us that "in all Israel 
there was none to be so much praised as Absalom 
for his beauty." 

Absalom quarreled with his brother Ammon 
and killed him, and then he was obliged to go 
away and hide himself, for he was afraid to face 
his father David. 

It was a very long time before David forgave 
Absalom ; but when he heard that he was very 
penitent he pardoned him, even kissing him ten- 
derly, for, as I told you, David loved his son very 
dearly. 

After this, you would have thought that Absa- 
lom would have been ashamed to behave badly 
to such a kind father ; but he soon forgot his 
goodness and, instead of being grateful, he col- 
lected a number of soldiers together and went 
about the country persuading the people to rebel 
against David. 

Absalom was so handsome and had such win- 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES EOR CHILDREN 



141 



ning ways that he soon had a great nian\- fnllow- 
ers, and at length the relicllion spread nnid Pax-id 
was obliged to flee from Jerusalem. I'lillowed In' 
a few of his subjects, he went up ?(lount (~)li\-el 
with bare feet and covered head, and weeping bit- 
terly. It was not only that Da\'id was grie\ed to 
be driven from his beautiful cit\ ; but what caused 
him such bitter sorrow ^\■as the knowledge that 
it was his own son who bad raised the rebellion 
and sought to make himself king in place of his 
father. 

But God did not mean Absalom's triumph to 
last. David's soldiers rallied together and de- 
feated Absalom's. 

When Absalom was riding away from the field 
of battle the mule that carried him passed beneath 
ihe thick branches of an oak-tree, and bis lung, 
beautiful hair became entangled in the branches 
so that he could not get away. And there Juab, 
the captain of David's army, found him and killed 
him, 

\A'hen David heard that his arm\- had been vic- 
torious the first question he asked was, "Is the 
young man /Absalom safe?" ^\'hen he was told 
that his son was dead he refused to rejoice over 
the victory, but covered his face and wept, crying 
sadly: "O my son Absalom! mv son, ni\' sun AIj- 
salom ! would God I had died for thee ! O Ab- 
salom, mv son, my son !" 

The soldiers who had fought so bravely for 
King David were disappointed that they received 
no word of praise, and at length Joal) went to the 
king and told him roughh' that, unless he re- 
strained his grief and went among the people 
again, he would lose the crown that had been 
fought for. So Davirl put his sorrow aside and 
went amongst the people again, for the ruler of a 
country must not think too much of bis pri\-ate 
troubles and neglect his people. 

David had been very anxious to build a beauti- 
ful temple in which to place the Ark of the Cov- 
enant of the Lord, but God would not allnw him 
to do this, because, he said, David had lieen "a 
man of war, and had shed blood." God told Da- 
vid to appoint his son Solomon to succeed him 
on the throne of Israel, and he promised that 
Solomon should build the temple wdiich David 
had designed, and for whicli he had collected 
many beautiful things. 

Although David had been guilty of some deeds 
which had offended God, he had repented of 
them, and became a very good and holy man. 
After a glorious reign of forty years, he closed 
his life with words of counsel to his son Solomon. 
"Be thou strong," he said, "and show thyself a 
man; . . . that thou mayest prosper in all that 
thou doest." 



SOLOMON THE WISE 

SorjnuiN succeeded his father David, as God had 
;i|ip(iiuted. 

Soiin alter he began hi^ reign ( iod api)earcd to 
him in a dream and asked him what good gift he 
shduld gi\'e him. 

Solomon did not choose riches, or happiness, 
or power, or .any of the gifts most people would 
have chosen; instead, he said to ( iod : "Give thy 
servant an understanding heart to judge thy pco- 
[de, that I may discern between .good and bad." 
Solomon said that only God could really rule sO' 
great a nation as Israel justly, and so he prayed 
that Goil would help him and give him wisdom. 

God was very pleased with Solomon, and not 
only gave him the gift he asked for, but added to 
it both riches and honor. 

So Solomon became the wisest king that ever 
lived, and the people came to tell him all their 
grievances, and to ask him to act as judge wdien- 
e^-er the\' had a dispute with any one. 

THE WISE JUDGMENT OF SOLOMON 

One da^■ two women came to Solomon carrying 
two little liabics, one living and one dead. Both 
the women claimed the living child, and this was 
the stor\- tlie\- told. They said they lived together 
in the same house, quite by themselves: that they 
went to rest one night, each with her baby beside 
her; but in the night one baby died. One woman 
said that the dead baby was not hers, although 
she found it lying beside her when she awoke in 
the morning. She declared that the other woman 
nmst ha\-e taken her baby and put the dead child 
in its place. 

But the second woman denied this. Now, how- 
was Solomon to decide? He knew that the real 
mother would sooner give up her baby than that 
it should have the least harm done to it, and so 
he gave what sounded like a very cruel order : 
he commanded the bal-)y to be cut in two, and a 
half gi\-en to each woman. But the real mother 
sprang forward, begging Solomon to let the other 
w-oman take the child ; she would give up all 
claim to it if only he would not hurt the little 
one. The second woman, however, agreed to have 
it cut in half. She did not mind what happened 
to it so long as it was not given to her companion. 
Then Solomon knew in a moment that the baby 
belonged to the woman who bad begged him to 
save hs life, and he gave it to her, and she car- 
ried it away joyfully. The w-hole nation heard of 
this act of justice and wisdom, and thanked God 
for the wise King he had chosen to reign in Is- 
rael. 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



142 

In the fourth year of Solomon's reign he began 
to build the temple which his father David had 
wished to raise. It took seven \-ears to build, and 
when it was finished it was the most beautiful 
building that had ever been made. It was all 
built of cedar-wood, and it was covered entirely 
with gold, and ever>-thing in it which was used 
in the service of God "was made of pure gold. 

THE QUEEN OF SHEB.VS VISIT 
TO SOLOMON 

The fame of Solomon's riches and honor and 
glory reached all over the earth, and people came 
from far and near to see the temple he had built, 
and to gaze upon the wise King Solomon. Among 
others came the Queen of Sheba. She came with 
a great train of camels, laden with spices, and 
gold, and precious stones, as gifts for Solomon. 
She had heard of Solomon's great wisdom, and 
wished to ask him many questions about the way 
in which she should rule her country. 

When she listened to his words of wisdom, and 
saw the temple he had built, and the grandeur of 
his palace and court, she said: ''It was a true 
report that I heard in mine own land of thy acts 
and of thy wisdom. Howbeit I believed not the 
words until I came, and mine eyes had seen it, 
and behold, the half was not told me: thy wisdom 
and prosperity exceedeth the fame which I heard. 
Happy are thy men, happy are these thy servants, 
which stand continually before thee, and that 
hear thy wisdom. Blessed be the Lord thy God, 
which delighteth in thee, to set thee on the throne 
of Israel." 

When the Queen of Sheba went hack to her 
own country Solomon told her that she might ask 
whatever she .would of him in return for the 
presents she had brought him. 

Toward the end of Solomon's reign he offended 
God by allowing some of his people to worship 
idols, and God told him that as a punishment he 
would not allow his son to be king over the whole 
of Israel. There was a young man named Jero- 
boam, a very brave soldier, and God said that 
this man should reign over ten of the tribes of 
Israel, and that only two should be governed by 
Solomon's son, Rehoboam. Solomon tried to kill 
Jeroboam ; but he did not succeed, for Jeroboam 
took refuge in Egypt until Solomon died. 

After Solomon's death Jeroboam came to 
Rehoboam and said : "Thy father made our yoke 
grievous: now therefore make thou the grievous 
service of thy father, and his heavy yoke which 
he put upon us, lighter, and we will serve thee." 

This was an opportunity for Rehoboam to have 
won Jeroboam to his side, but he did not take it. 



He told Jeroboam that he would answer him and 
the people in three days' time. Then he took 
counsel with the wise old ministers who had 
served his father, and they advised him to deal 
very gently and kindly with the people, and they 
would then serve him faithfully. 

But this counsel did not please Rehoboam, and 
he went to his younger friends and companions, 
and they gave him the worst advice they could. 
They reminded him that he was king, and that his 
subjects ought to be made to serve and obey him, 
and that it was beneath the dignity of a king to 
make promises of reform to his people. The old 
men begged Rehoboam not to listen to this bad 
counsel : but he sent them away, and would not 
listen to what they said. 

WHien Jeroboam and all the people came to 
Rehoboam on the third day, the King spoke 
roughly to them and said : "My father made your 
yoke heavy, and I will add to your yoke: my 
father also chastised you with whips, but I will 
chastise you with scorpions" ; meaning that, if 
they had thought the latter part of Solomon's 
reign a hard one, he would treat them much more 
cruelly than his father had treated them. 

It was no wonder, after these harsh words, that 
ten of the tribes revolted and chose Jeroboam to 
be their king. There were only the two tribes of 
Benjamin and Judah left to him, and these he 
ruled most unwisely. He allowed his people to 
worship idols, and as a punishment for this God 
allowed the King of Egypt to overrun his country 
and to carrv away all the rich treasures that were 
in the temple and in his own palace. 

During the whole of his reign of seventeen 
years he was at war with Jeroboam. 

ELIJAH 

Elijah was a prophet of God. A prophet was a 
man whom God chose to teach the people his holy 
will, and to whom he spoke, sometimes in dreams 
and sometimes in the manner in which he spoke 
to Moses upon Mount Sinai. 

There had been many wicked kings of Israel, 
but none more wicked than the King who was 
living at that time. His name was Ahab, and his 
Queen, Jezebel, was even worse than her hus- 
band. The people of Israel had forsaken and for- 
gotten the great God who had been so good to 
them, and were so foolish and wicked as to wor- 
ship idols of wood and stone — senseless figures 
made by their own hands, which could not possi- 
bly help them in times of trouble. 

Elijah was sent by God to Ahab the King, to 
warn him that unless he and his people ceased 
woYshiping idols he would punish them for their 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHIJ,DREN 



143 



wickedness. But neither Ahab nor tlie people lu-art seemed l.rokcn, Init Elijah took the boy 

would listen to him. They eontinueil to worship from her arms and carried him up to the Uttle 

their idols, and even tried to kdl Elijah because roum she had Ri\-en him lo sleep in. Then he 

he was the hearer of Coil's message to them. So, lahl the child upon the bed and prayed (jod to 

to punish them, God did not send any dew or i.;i\e him b.ick to his poor mother. ' "Lord my 

rain upon the earth for a lonsj. Ions: time, so that Cod," he cried, "hast thou also brought evil upon 

the crops failed for want of moisture, and the the widow with whom I sojourned, by slaying her 

grass and the trees and flowers were all burneil son ?"" ,\nd the prophet stretched himself ujion 

up. And there was very little water for either (he child three times, and cried once more to 

man or beast to drink, because gradually the ( iod : "O Lrird my God, I pray thee, let this 

springs and brooks dried up when there was no child's soul come into him a'^'ain." 

rain to replenish them. God heard his prayer, for presently the child 

sat up, ali\x- and well, and Elijah carried him to 

his mother. C)h, how happ\' she was to have her 

THE WONDERFUL THINGS THAT de:,r little boy safe m her arms again ! She said 

ELIJAH DID to Elijah: "Now by this I know that thou art a 

man .if (dod, anrl that the word of the Lord in thy 

During this time of trouble God told Elijah to luouth is truth." 
go out into the wdlderness and hide himself \'>v the 
brook Cherith, so that Ahab should not find him 

and kill him, for the King and the people believed ELI_L\H'S CONTEST WITH THE 
that it was the prophet who had caused the PROPHETS OF B \\L 
drought, instead of which it was their own wick- 
edness. Soox after this, God told Elijah to go to Ahab 
There was no food in the wilderness, and the and tell him that he would not let the terrible 
prophet would have died of hunger if God had famine last any longer, but woukl send rain upon 
not taken care of him. God bade the ravens the earth. Wdien Ahab saw Elijah he said, "Art 
bring him bread and meat both morning and eve- thou he that trciuljleth Israel?" 
ning, and for drink there were the waters of the Elijah answered: "I have not troubled Israel, 
brook. At length the brook dried up, and then Iiut thou, and thy father's house, in that ye have 
God told Elijah to go to a certain town «here a forsaken the commandments of the Lord, and 
poor widow lived, who would provide for him thou hast followed Baalim." 

until the rain came again and the famine ceased. And Elijah said that he would prove that his 

\\'hen Elijah came to the gate of the citv he God was the true God, and that tlie god Baal 

saw the widow woman gathering sticks, and he whom King Ahab and liis people worshiped had 

called to her: "Fetch me, I prav thee, a little no power eitlier for good or evil. He told Ahab 

water in a vessel, that I mav drink." As she was to send all the people to i\Iount Carmel that he 

going to fetch the water Elijah said: "Bring me, might speak to them there. And wdien they came 

I pray thee, a morsel of bread in thine hand." Elijah said to them: "How long halt ye lietween 

Then the poor woman told him sadlv that she two opinions? If the Lord be God, follow him: 

had no bread, nothing but a handful of meal in a but if Baal, then follow him." 

barrel and a little oil in a cruse, and that she was The people did not answer, and so Elijah or- 

gathering the sticks so that she might make a fire dered the prophets of Baal to bring two bullocks. 

and cook the oil and meal, and that when she and One the}- were to take, and, after having placed 

her son had eaten that, they would ha\'e no more, it upon an altar, they were to pra}- to their god, 

but must die of hunger. But Elijah told the Baal, to send down fire from heaven to consume 

widow to go and mix the meal and oil, and before their offering. The prophets of liaal did this, 

she and her son ate to bring him a little cake of but, although they prayed all the day, no fire was 

It, for God would not let the oil and the meal fail sent. 

until he sent rain upon the earth again. Then Elijah made an altar and dug a deep 

The widow did not doubt Elijali's words, but trench around it, wlaich he filled with water. He 

gave him food before either she or her son tasted killed the bullock and laid it upon the altar, and 

any, and so long as the famine lasted there was then he spoke to God. "Lord Gorl of Abraham, 

always plenty of meal in the barrel and oil in the Isaac, and of Israel," he said, "let it be known 

cruse. this day that thou art God in Israel, and that I 

One day a very sad thing happened. The wid- am thy servant, and that I have done all these 

ow's little son fell ill and died. The poor woman's things at thy word." Then God sent down fire 



144 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



from heaven, which burned not only the sacrifice, 
but the altar of stones, and dried up the water 
that was in the trench. 

The people were afraid now, for tbev knew 
that Elijah's God was the true God, and they fell 
on their faces and said, "The Lord, he is God." 
Now that they had acknowledged their sin, God 
forgave them, and told Elijah that he would send 
the rain that was so much needed; so Elijah told 
Ahab to hasten home before it began to fall. And 
very soon the sky was black with clouds and the 
rain fell in torrents. 

When Ahab told his Queen, Jezebel, about the 
two sacrifices, and how the people had seized the 
false prophets of Baal and had killed them, she 
was very angry and said that she would kill Eli- 
jah. So God warned Elijah to go away and hide 
himself, and the prophet went into the wilderness, 
where God sent an angel to feed him. 

God told Elijah to anoint a good man named 
Elisha to be prophet in his stead when God 
thought fit to take Elijah to heaven. Elijah found 
Elisha plowing in a field, and he cast his mantle 
upon him. Elisha knew at once that he had been 
chosen as a minister of God, for he asked leave 
to go and bid farewell to his father and mother 
and friends, and when he had done this he fol- 
lowed Elijah and became his servant. 



HOW AHAB TOOK NABOTH'S 
VINEYARD 

Ahab had acknowledged Elijah's God to be the 
true God, but his wife, Jezebel, soon persuaded 
him to worship idols again, and then he became 
more wicked than ever. There was a man named 
Naboth, who owned a vineyard close by the walls 
of Ahab's palace, and Ahab set his heart upon 
possessing this vineyard and turning it into a 
garden. 

The King went to Naboth and offered to buy it 
or else to give him another vineyard in exchange 
for it. But the man did not wish to part with it, 
because it had belonged to his family for a very 
long time, and so he refused to let Ahab have it. 
Ahab was so angry and disappointed that he went 
home and laj' down upon his bed and refused to 
eat or speak. But his wicked Queen, Jezebel, 
went to him and told him to arise, and eat and 
drink and be merry, for he should have the vine- 
yard. 

Then she caused Naboth to be seized and 
brought to a mock trial, and she bribed two wit- 
nesses to say that he had spoken ill of both God 
and the King; so he was condemned to die, and 
was carried away outside the city and stoned to 



death. Then she told Ahab to go and take pos- 
session of the vineyard, and he did so. 

As he was walking in it he looked up and saw 
Elijah coming toward him. The wicked King 
trembled and said, "Hast thou found me, O my 
enemv?" And Elijah said, "I have found thee; 
because thou hast sold thyself to work evil in the 
sight of the Lord. Behold, I will bring evil upon 
thee." 

Three years afterward Ahab was 'killed in bat- 
tle, and Jezebel met with a terrible death : her 
servants threw her from her window, and she 
was crushed upon the stones beneath. 

The time had now come for Elijah's work on 
earth to cease. He took Elisha with him to a 
place called Gilgal, and when the}' came to the 
river Jordan and wished to pass over, Elijah took 
his mantle and struck the waters with it and they 
parted at once, leaving a dry pathway by which 
Elijah and his servant could pass over. 

Elijah now told Elisha that he was to be taken 
from him, and while they were talking together 
a chariot of fire and horses of fire appeared and 
parted them. And Elijah was caught up into the 
chariot and was carried away by a great wind 
into heaven. 

But as he went his mantle fell from him, and 
Elisha took it up, and with the mantle he received 
the strange power of performing miracles which 
God had given to Elijah, for when shortly after- 
ward he wished to recross the river Jordan, he 
struck the waters with the mantle as Elijah had 
done, and they at once parted to allow him to 
pass over to the other side. 



ELISHA, THE MAN OF GOD 

I H.WE told you that when Elijah's mantle fell to 
earth and was caught up by his servant Elisha, 
whom he had been teaching to become a minister 
of God, Elisha was at once able to perform mira- 
cles. This power remained with him all his life. 

Once when the King of Syria had made a plan 
to capture the King of Israel, God spoke to Elisha 
and told him of the plan, and he was able to warn 
his King and to save him from being made pris- 
oner. 

The King of Syria was very angry when he 
heard the King of Israel had been saved, and he 
sent an army to try and take the man of God ; but 
God sent angels to protect his prophet, and when 
the Syrians came near Elisha's house they were 
suddenly smitten with blindness, so that they 
could not find their way, and Elisha led them cap- 
tive into Samaria. 

\\'hen they came into the presence of the King 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CTiITT:)REN 



145 



of Israel, Elislia prayed tliat the}- mii;lu have 
their sight restored to them, and God granted Ids 
prayer. How surprised they must have hccn 
when God gave them hack their sii;lit and they 
suddenly found themselves in the camp of the 
enemy ! 

The King of Israel would have killed them, hut 
Elisha would not allow him to do so. He told the 
King to give them food and send them 'jack to 
their master. 

This story shows you how hy God's help the 
whole Syrian army was defeated bv one man. 

HOW ELISH.\ IIELEED MANY 

Elisha not only busied himself in great mat- 
ters: he was always ready to help the poor and 
needy when they were in distress. One day a 
poor woman came to him, weeping bitterh-, for 
her sons were about to be taken from her and 
sold as slaves. 

She said that her husband was dead, and she 
was so poor that she could not pay her debts, and 
so the people to whom she owed money were 
coming to take her children from her to sell them, 
in order that the}' might repay themselves the 
money she owed them. Elisha asked her if she 
had nothing in the house with which she could 
pay her debt. She said she had nothing at all 
but one pot of oil. 

Then Elisha told her to go to her neighliors 
and borrow as many empty bottles and pots as 
she possibly could, and when she had done this he 
told her to pour oil from her own pot into the 
empty ones. She did so, and as she poured the 
oil went on increasing, so that at length it filled 
all the empty vessels she had borrowed. 

Then Elisha told her to go and sell the oil, and 
she received so much money for it that she was 
able, not only to pay her debts and so save her 
sons, but to have sufficient money left over to buy 
food for herself and her children. 

It happened one day that Elisha was passing 
through a place called Shunem, and a rich woman 
who lived there came out to him and begged him 
to come into her house and take food and rest. 
Elisha did so, and after that the woman never 
failed to look for him and invite him in, and even 
persuaded her husband to build a little room for 
him, so that whenever he was in Shunem he 
might feel that he had a quiet resting-place where 
he could pray to God undisturbed. 

Elisha was very grateful to the woman, and he 
asked God to give her that which she most de- 
sired. She had no child, and so God sent her a 
little son. 

When the baby had grown to boyhood he went 



out into tlie liar\'cst-field willi the reapers to en- 
joy himself in the sunshine, but be suddenlv fell 
sick and told his father that his head p.ained him. 
The fatlier b.'iile a serx'.ant carry tlic child to his 
mother; so he carried him iiUn tlie Ikjusc and 
put him on his mother's lap, but tlie poor little 
boy only grew worse anil worse, until at noon he 
died. 

The mother carried him to the little room that 
she and her husband always kept ready for Eli- 
sha. and then she set out to find the ni.an of God, 
hoping tliat he would help her in her distress. 
And he did. He sent his servant Gehazi to lay 
his staff upon the child, but when he did not re- 
cover Elisha went up to the room where he lay 
and prayed God to restore the woman's son to 
life. He breathed upon his mouth, and put his 
eyes against the child's eves, and his hands upon 
his, and presently he sat up and sneezed seven 
times; then he opened his eves, and Elisha told 
his Servant to call his mother, who came and took 
her son away alive and well. 

ELISHA HEALS NAAMAN'S LEPROSY 

Once Elisha was so good and kind as to help 
one of his enemies. There was a captain of the 
King of S>'ria's army called Naaman, and Naa- 
man was suffering from the terrilde complaint of 
leprosy. In Naaman's house there was a little 
captive maid whom the Syrians had brought 
away from Israel, and whom Naaman had given 
to his wife. 

I think Naaman's wife must have been kind to 
the little captive, for she seems to have loved her 
mistress, and when she saw how grie\'ed she was 
over her husband's illness she tolil her of the 
prophet of Israel who would surely be able to 
cure him. 

Naaman told the King of S\Tia, and he was 
anxious that his brave captain should be cured ; 
so he wrote a letter to the King of Israel, begging 
him to help Naaman, and sent the letter by Naa- 
man himself. When the King read the letter he 
was very much afraid, for he thought the King 
of Syria had just sought an excuse for another 
quarrel. "Am I God," he said, "to kill and to 
make alive: that this man doth send unto me to 
reciivcr a man of liis le]iros\-?" 

But when Elisha heard wliat liad hap])ened be 
told the King to send Naaman to liim. AA'bcn he 
came to Ids house Elislia did n(jt go out to meet 
him, as Naaman cxpccled he would. Instead, he 
sent a message by his ser\'ant, telling him to go 
and wash seven times in the ri\-ur Jordan. 

Naaman was very nuich offended: be thought 
Elisha was mocking him, and would have gone 



146 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



away without doing as the prophet bade him : but 
his servant reminded him that if Elisha had or- 
dered him to do some great or difficult thing he 
would have done it, and so at last, very reluc- 
tantly, he allowed himself to be persuaded. He 
went and dipped seven times in the river Jordan, 
and at once his flesh became smooth and healthy 
like the flesh of a little child. 

FALSEHOOD AND AVARICE PUNISHED 

Naaman was anxious to reward the prophet 
who had cured him, but Elisha would take noth- 
ing. And now a very terrible thing happened. 
Elisha's servant, Gehazi, thought how foolish it 
was of his master to refuse a reward from a 
Syrian, an enemy of their own country ; and so 
he went after Naaman and said his master had 
changed his mind and would accept some of his 
gifts. 

Naaman gave him most willingly all he asked 
for, and pressed more upon him, and then Gehazi 
went back to his master, thinking he would never 
find out what he had done. But God had seen 
Gehazi, and had told Elisha to punish him, and 
so when he returned Elisha bade the leprosy 
which had left Naaman to come upon Gehazi, 
and he went out from Elisha's presence "a leper 
as white as snow." 

Even in small matters Elisha was always ready 
to help those who asked him. A man was one 
day felling wood beside the river Jordan, and he 
let the head of the axe he was using fall into the 
stream. He was greatly distressed, for the axe 
was a borrowed one; but when he told Elisha, 
that good man made the iron axe swim, so that 
the workman had only to put out his hand and 
take it. 

During Elisha's lifetime there were several dif- 
ferent kings in Israel. Many of them worshiped 
idols, and there was a beautiful house in which 
images of the god called Baal were set up for the 
people to pray to ; but God put it into the heart 
of this high priest to persuade the Israelites to 
return to the worship of their own Lord God. So 
they destroyed the house of Baal, and broke the 
images in pieces. But alas ! after a time they 
again sinned against God, and in his anger he 
punished them by allowing the Syrians to defeat 
them in battle. 

When Elisha was an old man and very, very ill 
— so ill, indeed, that he died soon afterward — 
the King of Israel came to him, weeping bitterly 
over the destruction of his people. Elisha told 
him to take his bow and arrows and stand by the 
open window and shoot. And the King shot an 
arrow from the bow, and Elisha said it was "the 



arrow of the Lord's deliverance and the arrow of 
deliverance from Syria." 

Then, having promised that Israel should be 
delivered from the army of the Syrians, Elisha 
closed his eyes and died. 

ESTHER 

There was once a very rich and powerful King 
named Ahasuerus, who reigned over a hundred 
and twenty provinces, reaching from Nubia to 
Ethiopia. 

In the third year of his reign this King made 
a great feast, or rather festival, for it lasted 
many months, and to this festival all his nobles 
and companions were invited. 

The name of the Queen of that land was 
Vashti, and she also gave a feast to the ladies of 
her court, for it was not the custom at that time 
for men and women to be present at feasts to- 
gether. 

During the feast Ahasuerus boasted of the 
beauty of his Queen, and even ordered her to be 
brought in among them, so that all the guests 
might see that he spoke the truth. 

When the Queen received the King's message 
she was very angry indeed, and refused to go. 
She was a very proud woman, and she thought 
the King had put a great slight upon her by or- 
dering her to come into the presence of his guests 
just to show off her beauty. In Eastern countries 
women were looked upon as little better than 
slaves, and therefore when the King was told that 
Vashti refused to obey his orders, he declared 
that she should no longer be the queen. He sent 
her away from his palace and chose another very 
beautiful maiden to be queen in her place. 

The new Queen was named Esther: she was a 
Jewess, though the King did not know this, and 
she had no parents, but had been brought up by 
her uncle, Mordecai. 

THE STORY OF HAMAN AND 
MORDECAI 

Now, the King's chief minister was called Ha- 
man, and this Haman hated Mordecai, because he 
refused to ofifer homage to him when he passed in 
and out of the King's palace. Haman knew Mor- 
decai was a Jew, but he did not know that he was 
the Queen's uncle, and so, in order to be re- 
venged upon him, he persuaded the King to order 
all his Jewish subjects, men and women and chil- 
dren, to be put to death. 

When Mordecai heard what was about to hap- 
pen he sent a message to Esther, telling her tO' 



OLD TESTAMENT SIORIES FOR CHILDREN 

DANIEL 



147 



intercede with the King for her country-people. 
Esther was much distressed, for there was a law 
which forbade an\- one to enter the King's pres- 
ence unbidden, and she said that if she ventured 
to do so she might be condemned to die, unless 
the King should hold out his golden scepter to her 
as a sign of forgiveness and protection. liut 
when the King saw her he held out his golden 
scepter and asked her kindly: "What wilt thou, 
Esther? and what is thy request? It shall be 
even given thee to the half of m\' kingdom." 

Esther then asked the King to come to a ban- 
quet which she was preparing for him, and to 
allow Haman to come also. Ahasuerus promised 
that he would do this. 

That night the King could not sleep, and so he 
bade his servant bring him the book of records in 
which all great deeds were written down. In 
this book he saw Mordecai's name, for I\Iordecai 
had once saved the King's life. Ahasuerus asked 
what reward he had received, and when he heard 
he had never been rewarded he sent for Haman 
and asked him what should be done to the man 
whom the King wished to honor. 

Haman believed that he himself was the man, 
and so he said that he should be arrayed in the 
King's own royal robes, and treated with great 
respect, and then it should be proclaimed in the 
streets that he was "the man whom the King de- 
lighteth to honor." Haman was much surprised 
when the King told him to do such honor to i\Ior- 
decai. He dared not refuse ; but when he had 
obeyed he went home full of grief. 

But the King's servants came to fetch him to 
the banquet which Esther had prepared, and dur- 
ing the banquet the King asked his Queen to 
make a petition, and no matter what she asked he 
would grant it. Then she told him of Haman's 
wicked plot, and begged him to save her life and 
the lives of her people. 

The King was very angry when he heard of 
Haman's treachery, and when one of his cham- 
berlains pointed out a tall gallows upon which 
Haman had intended to hang Mordecai, King 
Ahasuerus ordered Haman to be hanged there 
instead. 

He now wished to prevent the carrying out of 
his orders that all the Jews were to be killed, but 
by the Persian law an order once given could not 
be recalled; so he sent messages to the Jews, 
warning them that they would be attacked, and 
they were therefore able to defend themselves, 
and, instead of all being killed, they killed a great 
number of their enemies. 

Mordecai was raised to a position of great 
honor, for next to the King be became the high- 
est in the land. 



The people of Israel had again offended God, and 
so he allowed Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon, 
to come and besiege Jerusalem and carry many 
of the Jews away. 7\niong (hose wdio were taken 
captive were four very good and wise men, 
nameil Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and y\bed- 
nego. 

One night Nebuchadnezzar dreamed a dream ; 
but in the morning he could not remember it, and 
he was so unreasonable as to send for a number 
of his wise men to tell him what he had dreamt 
about and the meaning of the dream. They could 
not do this, and so, in a fit of anger, he ordered 
all the wise men in his kingdom to be put to 
death. A\'hen the soldiers came to kill Daniel he 
told them that if the King would give him time 
he would ask God to tell him wdiat the dream had 
been, as his God was able to do all things. 

Nebuchadnezzar granted him the time he asked 
for, and God showed Daniel both the dream and 
the interpretation of it. So Daniel went to the 
King and told him his dream. It was this : There 
was a great figure made of all kinds of metals, 
and also partly of clay. This figure was struck 
by a stone and broken to pieces, and the wind 
came and scattered the pieces all over the earth. 

The meaning of the dream, Daniel said, was 
this: The limbs of the figure, all made of different 
metals, represented the kingdoms of the earth, 
which God would one day destroy uttcrlv, and in 
place of them he woidd set up his own kingdom. 

Nebuchadnezzar was so pleased with Daniel 
that he placed him and his three companions in 
positions (if great trust, and said that their God 
must be the true God. 

DANIEL'S FRIENDS CAST INTO THE 
FIERY FURNACE 

But Nebuchadnezzar soon forgot what he had 
said, and made a great image of gold and set it 
up m a large plain near his palace. And he com- 
manded that all his subjects should come into the 
plain where this image was, and that they should 
fall down and worship it. The people were afraid 
to disobey the King's command, for he had or- 
dered any one wlio did so to be thrown into a 
fiery furnace and burned. 

We arc not told what answer Daniel made to 
the King. Perhaps he w^as not present, for we 
know that such a good man would have refused 
to worship an idol. His three companions went 
to the plain with the rest of the people; but they 
would not bow down to 'the golden idol, and 
Nebuchadnezzar sent for them in great anger and 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES EOR CHlEljREN 



149 



asked them how they dared dist;ibe\- his com- 
mands. 

They answered that tlie (^iod the>- served was 
able to dehver them out of his hand ; but the Kint; 
said he would not save them from the fierv fur- 
nace. 

He then ordered thcni to be liound hand and 
foot and cast into the hottest part of the fire. 
This was done, anil the heat from the furnace 
was so great that it kdled the men \\dio had In 
cast them in. But Shadracli, Meshach, and Abed- 
nego were not harmed. The Son of God, in whom 
they had trusted, came to them and would nrit let 
the fire touch them. A\'hcn the King saw friur 
figures in the midst of the flames, moving about 
unbound and unharmed, he knew that what Sha- 
drach. Meshach, anil Abed-nego had said was true, 
and that their God had been able to protect them. 

So Nebuchadnezzar went near to the mouth of 
the furnace and cried: "Shadrach, Meshach, and 
Abed-nego, ye servants of the Most High God, 
come forth and come hither." .-Vnd \\hen they 
came out it was fcmnd that even their clijthing 
had not been so much as singed. 

Nebuchadnezzar now commanded that all iduls 
should be broken and thrown aside, and that the 
whole nation should worship the God of Sha- 
drach, Meshach, and Abed-ncgo. 

Many years passed and King Nebuchadnezzar 
died, and his son Belshazzar reigned in his stead. 
Ele was a verv wicked man, and ruled his king- 
dom so badly that God determined to take it from 
him. 

BELSHAZZAR'S FEAST 

OxE day the King ga\'e a great feast, but in the 
midst of the feasting and laughter a sudden hush 
of fear fell upon all those who were present, for 
the fingers of a man's hand appeared and wrote 
upon the wall. The King saw both the hand and 
the writing; but the words were in a language he 
could not understand, so he sent for his wise men, 
and even the\' could not read them. 

Then the Queen reminded Belshazzar that in 
the days of his father Nebuchadnezzar there had 
been a wise man named Daniel who had under- 
stood the meaning of many things wdiich the 
King's soothsayers and astrologers had not been 
able to interpret for him. 

So the King sent for Daniel, and when he saw 
the words he told the King that the meaning was 
this: "God hath numbered thy kingdom, and fin- 
ished it. Thou art weighed in the balance and 
found wanting. Thy kingdom is divided and 
given to the Medes and Persians." These were 
terrible words for Belshazzar. God did not mean 



him to be king any longer, for he had been found 
wanting, as he b,ad not made use of the oppor- 
tunities given him to benefit his kingdom, and 
(iiid would alli:)W the Medes and Persians to con- 
ipier it. 

All this rc;illy happened, for P.elshazzar was 
killed the \-crv same night, and Darius, a Median, 
became king in his stead. Darius soon founrl out 
\\b:it ,'1 guild and «ise man Daniel was, and he 
placed him in a high position, making him ruler 
over the whole kingdom, so that the princes and 
officers had to give an account to him of the 
manner in \\hich (hev governed their provinces. 

DANIEL CAST INTO THE LIONS' DEN 

This made the princes and nobles very angry, 
and they hated Daniel, and determined, if possi- 
ble, to rid themselves of him. They knew it 
would be useless to speak ill of him to the King; 
and so they made a very wdcked plot. 

First they flattered the King's vanity by saying 
how good and great and just he was, and then 
they begged him to sign a decree that for thirty 
davs all the people were to come to him if they 
had an\- favor to ask, and that any person who, 
during that time, made a petition to either God 
or man should he cast into a den of lions. 

Daniel was told of this decree, and yet he con- 
tinued to prav to God. and so the wicked men 
who had made the plot hurried to tell the King 
that Daniel had asked a petition of God, and 
ought therefore to be thrown into the lions' den. 

Darius was verv much grieved and saw how 
wrong and foolish he had been in signing such a 
decree; but, as I told you before, a law once made 
was never broken by the ]\Iedes and Persians, 
and so Daniel was cast into the den. 

The king passed the wdiole night fasting and 
mourning. He could not sleep, and very early in 
the mrirning he went to the lions' den and called 
to Daniel, asking hmi if his God had been able to 
sa\-e him from the lions. Oh, how thankful he 
was \vhen Daniel answered him and said: "O 
King, live forever! My God hath sent his angel, 
and h:itli shut the lions' mouths that they have 
nut hurt me." 

ddien the King commanded that Daniel shoulo 
be taken out of the lions' den, and he made a de- 
cree that all his subjects should worship Daniel's 
God, for he was the only God able to deliver his 
servants in the time of trouble. 

Daniel li\-ed until the time of captivity in Baby- 
lon w;is ended, and he and his cnuntrymen went 
back to lerusalem and rebuilt the city and the 
temple, wdiich had been burned by Nebuchad- 
nezzar. 



150 



OLD TESTAMENT STORIES FOR CHILDREN 



JONAH 

There was once a prophet of Israel called Jonah, 
whom God commanded to go to Nineveh, a city 
in Assyria, and there preach to the people and tell 
them that God would punish them for their great 
wickedness. 

Jonah did not wish to go, and so he tried to 
flee from the presence of God. How foolish it 
was of him to suppose that God could not punish 
him if he hid himself ! 

Jonah went to a place called Joppa and there 
took ship for Tarshish. But before long God 
sent a great wind which lashed the sea into a 
mighty storm, and the sailors were afraid that 
the ship would sink. 

Then the captain and all his men prayed to 
their gods to save them, and they began throwing 
the merchandise overboard to lighten the ship. 

While the storm raged overhead Jonah lay fast 
asleep and heard nothing- of it, and so the captain 
went to him and shook him until he awoke, and 
said: "What meanest thou, O sleeper? Arise, 
call upon thy God, if so be that God will think 
upon us, that we perish not.'' 

When the storm did not cease the sailors began 
to whisper among themselves that there must 
be some wicked person on board, to punish whom 
the storm had been sent. They cast lots to see 
who this wicked person might be, and the lot fell 
upon Jonah. 

Then the sailors asked him: 'AA'hat is thine 
occupation ? and whence eomest thou ? what is 
thy country? and of what people art thou?" 

Jonah told them that he was a Hebrew, and 
that he was fleeing from the presence of God, 
and that God had sent the storm to punish him 
for his disobedience. 



JONAH THROWN OVERBOARD 

The sailors asked what they should do with him 
so that the storm might cease, and Jonah bade 
them take him up and cast him into the sea. 

Thev were kind-hearted men and did not like 
to harn, him, and so they rowed as hard as they 



could to try and bring the ship safely to land ; 
but the sea was too wild for them, and soon they 
saw that the ship would be lost unless the storm 
ceased. And so they cast Jonah into the waves, 
and at once the storm ceased raging and the sea 
was still. 

God did not mean Jonah to die, and so he sent 
a great fish, which swallowed him without harm- 
ing him, and for three days and nights he lay in 
the fish repenting his disobedience and praying 
God to save him. At the end of that time God 
caused the fish to cast him out on dry land, un- 
injured. 

Jonah did not hesitate when God told him a 
second time to go to Nineveh and preach to the 
people. He went at once and told them that in 
forty days God would destroy Nineveh, because 
of their wickedness. Jonah preached so earnestly 
to them that they began to repent, and, prayed so 
humbly and heartily to God that he said he would 
forgive them and spare the city. 

Instead of being pleased, Jonah was very an- 
gry, for he said that now people would say he 
was a false prophet. He did not think of the 
poor creatures who would be destroyed if Nine- 
veh fell ; he thought only of himself and what 
people would say of him. He turned away and 
left the city, saying that he wished he were dead. 
At length he became so weary and faint that he 
might have died had not God caused a tree to 
spring up which sheltered him from the fierce 
rays of the sun. But the next day God caused 
the tree to wither and he sent a bitter east wind, 
so that Jonah suffered both from sun and wind. 

Again Jonah complained bitterly and wished 
that he might die; but God rebuked him, and 
reminded him that, though he grieved over the 
destruction of a mere plant, which had sprung up 
quickly without his aid, yet he was willing that a 
whole city with thousands of inhabitants should 
perish. He was a very selfish man: he wished 
the tree to live because it sheltered him, and he 
wished the people of Nineveh to perish so that 
he, who had predicted its fall, should not be called 
a false prophet. He thought only of himself, 
and people who think only of themselves are 
never happy. 




BIBLE CURIOSITIES AND MI<: MORY- TESTS 



BABY'S BIBLE I'lCrLiRES 

An A B C Book 

A is for Adam, the first man ("loil made, 

Who dwelt in the dardeu of lulen's fair shade. 

B is for Bethlehem ; Jesus was horn 

In Bethlehem town the first Christmas morn. 

C for the Children who stood at Christ's knee, 
As he tenderly hade them "Come unlo me." 

D for the Dove hringing tidings of peace. 

By which Xoah knew the waters woidd cease. 

E for Elijah, whom ravens once fed, 

Bringing him daily from heaven his bread. 

F for the Flight of the holy Christ-child 

\\'ith Joseph, and Mary, his mother so mild. 

G for the Goodness, and Gentleness too. 

The Samaritan showed the poor wounded Jew. 

H is for Hannah: the son she loved well 

She brought to the Temple with Eli to dwell. 

I is for Isaac, who, God said, shr)ul(l die; 

Meaning that Abraham's faith he would try. 

J is for Jesus, so tender and true. 

Who promised to love little children like you. 

K for the Kingdom of heaven on high. 

Where Jesus now dwells far beyond the blue 
sky. 

L for the Laws that were graven so plain; 

M is for Moses who broke them in twain ; 
Fierce in his wrath, for the people he led 
No longer served God, but an idol instead. 

N is for Nazareth, where, calm and content. 
The beautiful years of Christ's childhood were 
spent. 

O for Obedience which children should show 
To their Father on high and their parents 
below. 

P for the Prophets stands, by whom of old 
God's will to his people was ever foretold. 



Q for the Quails, which the Israelites found, 
When, hungry, they searched for some food 
all around. 

R is for Uulh, who one fair harvest morn 
Gleaned 'mong the sheaves of the bright 
golden corn. 

S is for Samuel, who, though very small, 
Was yet not afraid to answer God's call. 

T for the Temple, in which fesus taught 

And turned nut the merchants who there sold 
and bought. 

U for Uriah, so trusty and tried. 

Who fought for his country and valiantly died. 

V for the Vision, the heavenly gleam, 
Jacob once saw in his beautiful dreain. 

W for the Widow who gave God her luite; 

The offering, though small, was great in his 
sight. 

X is for Xmas, that happy day when 

Jesus brought peace and good will unto men. 

Y for the Years since our dear S;iviour's birth, 
Bringing rich blessings to men upon earth. 

Z for the Zeal we should all of us show 
Praising our God in his kingdom below. 



SCRIPTUI^E ALPHABET GAME 

The slenderest rhyming facility only is needed to 
play the game of .Scriplnre Al])habet. 

One person writes ;i line beginning with "A," 
which must be the initial of somebody or some- 
thing mentioned with some prominence in the 
Bible. The second player must write the next 
line in the same meter, beginning with "B" ; the 
third "C," and so on, until the enfl of the alpha- 
bet is reached — passing the paper from one to 
another. Any one whf) confesses inability may 
refuse, and the next player writes the line, until 
finally one person may be left alone as victor. 
If two or more coiitesl.anis slid dispute the vic- 
tory when "Z" is reached, they may begin again 
with "A," 



>S' 



152 



BIBLE CURIOSITIES AND MEMORY-TESTS 



Scripture Alphabet 

A was a traitor found hung by his hair. 

B was a folly built high in the air. 

C was a mountain o'erlooking the sea. 

D was a nurse buried under a tree. 

E was a firstborn, bad from his youth. 

F was a ruler, who trembled at truth. 

G was a messenger, sent with good word. 

H was a mother, who lent to the Lord. 

I was a name received at the ford. 

J was a shepherd in Arabian land. 

K was a place near the desert of sand. 

L was a pauper begging his bread. 

M was an idol, an object of dread. 

N was an architect, ages ago. 

O was a rampart to keep out the foe. 

P was an isle, whence a saint looked above. 

Q was a Christian, saluted in love. 

R was obscure, yet a mother of kings. 

S was a Danite, who did wondrous things. 

T was a city that had a strong hold. 

U was a country productive of gold. 

V was a queen whom a king set aside. 

Z was a place where a man wished to hide. 

Answers to Scripture Alphabet 



A-bsalom 

B-abel . 

C-armel 

D-eborah 

E-sau 

F-elix 

G-abriel 

H-annah 

Lsracl 

J-ethro 

K-adesh-barnea 

L-azarus 

M-olech 

N-oah 

O-phel 

P-atmos . 

Q-uartus 

R-achab 

S-amson 

T-yre 

U-phaz . . 

V-ashti . 

Z-oar 



II. Sam. xviii. 9 

Gen. xi. 9 

I. Kings xviii. 42, 43 

Gen. XXXV. 8 

Heb. xii. 16, 

Acts xxiv. 25 

. Dan. ix. 21 

I. Sam. i. 27, 28 

Gen. xxxii. 22, 28 

Ex. iii. I 

Deut. i. 19 

Luke xvi. 20, 21 

. Lev. XX. 2, 3 

Gen. vi. 13, 22 

.II. Chron. xxvii. 3 

Rev. i. 9 

Rom. xvi. 23 

. Matt. i. 5 

Judg. xiv. 5, 6 

II. Sam. xxiv. 7 

Jer. x. 9 

Esther i. 9, 19 

Gen. xix. 22, 



told, for example, that the person selected is "a 
woman of the Old Testament, whose eagerness 
to secure a blessing for her son brought sorrow 
instead of joy." 

Each person is then questioned in turn, and 
each has chosen a new character, the initial let- 
ters of which in succession will spell the word 
originally decided upon. 

No. I answers, "I am one whose rejection of 
faithful counselors led to a national rebellion." 

No. 2. "To me was the charge of the taber- 
nacle committed during the wilderness journey." 

No. 3. "I was so wrong-headed that even my 
dumb beast tried to lead me aright." 

No. 4. 'T am a prophet who was a witness for 
God before multitudes, and yet fled for my life 
at the threat of a woman." 

No. 5. "I am the father of a man who made 
a failure of his life, though in appearance 'every 
inch a king.' " 

No. 6. "I represent the place of Israel's first 
defeat after entering Canaan." 

No. 7. 'T had a fine navy, which brought great 
riches to Jerusalem." 

Answers 
Rebekah : 

1. Rehoboam. 

2. Eleazar. 

3. Balaam. 
Elijah. 

Kish, father of Saul. 
Ai. 



4- 
5- 
6. 

7. Hiram of Tyre. 



BIBLE CHARACTERS 



To be written and the answers appended : 

1. Who like the lion seeketh to devour, 
The godly man in an unguarded hour? 

2. Whose occupation did the apostle share 
When forced to labor for his daily fare? 

3. In what did Ruth her present take away. 
Which to her mother she did straight convey? 

4. To what great sin was Israel's nation prone, 
Which robbed their God of what \vas his 

alone? 

5. Who was by faith enabled to despise 

The lion's yawning jaws and glaring eyes? 

Take now the five initials, and you'll find 
The name of one most favored of mankind. 
He, choosing in his youth the better part. 
Was called by God one after his own heart. 



A CHARACTER is chosen by the company in the 
absence of one player, who, upon his return, is 



Answers 



1. Devil. 

2. Aquila. 



BIBLE CURIOSITIES AND MEMORY-TESTS 



15J 



3. Veil. 

4. Idolatry. 

5. Daniel. 

The initial letters of which spell David. 

CAPPING QUOTATIONS 

One person gives a quotation from tlie Piible, 
which must be promptly followed by another 
from the next player beginning with the letter 
that concluded the former quotation. For ex- 
ample : 

"Shall not the Judge of all the earth ilo righf?" 

"The way of transgressors is hari/." 

"Delight thvself in the Lord, and he shall give 
thee thy heart's desiri-." 

"Endure all thingj"." 

"Search the Scriptureor." 

"Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like 
one of thesi'." 

"Every good gift and every perfect gift is 
from abovr." 

"Even a fool when he holdeth his peace is 
counted wisi-." 

"Evil communications corrupt good mannerj'." 

"Seek, and ye shall fmd." 

"Do good and lend, hoping for nothing agai)i." 

"Not every one that saith unto me Lord, Lord, 
but he that doeth the will of my Father." 

"Rejoice in the Lord always," etc. 

THE "FIRST THINGS" OF THE BIBLE 

1. What was the first command of God? 

2. On what occasion did man first exercise his 
power of speech ? 

3. Who was the first human transgressor? 

4. What was the first recorded prophecy? 

5. Who was the first exile in Bible times? 

6. Who told the first recorded lie ? 

7. Where do we find the oldest Hebrew 
poetry ? 

8. Who was the first person that died a natu- 
ral death ? 

9. Who offered the first recorded prayer? 

10. What was the first mentioned meat for 
food? 

11. By whom was the first land purchased? 

12. What is the first recorded use of current 
money? 

13. How was the first recorded oath adminis- 
tered? 

14. Of what did the first wedding present con- 
sist? 

15. Where is the first mention of giving a 
tenth to God? 



16. Who erected the first monument to the 
(lead ? 

17. With wliat operation are physicians first 
mentioned ? 

18. Who was the first Jewish high priest? 

19. Who was the first sacred historian? 

20. Which of the tribes marched first in the 
wilderness journey? 

21. Who was the first to commit suicide, and 
how ? 

22. Where is the first mention of a library? 

23. What was the text of our Saviour's first 
sermon ? 

24. Who was the first recorded Gentile con- 
vert ? 

Answers to the "First Things" of the Bible 

1. "Let there be light." — tien. i. 3. 

2. On giving names to the animal creation. — 
Gen. ii. 19. 

3. The woman Eve. — I. Tim. ii. 14; Gen. iii. I. 

4. The coming of Christ. — Gen. iii. 15. 

5. .'Vdam. — Gen. iii. 24. 

6. Cain. — Gen. iv. 9. 

7. Lamech's address to bis wives is probably 
the oldest Hebrew poetry to be found. — Gen. iv. 

-'3> 24- 

8. Adam. — ( icn. v. 5. 

9. Abraham. — (icn. xviii. 16-33. 

10. A'eal.- (ien. xviii. 7, 8. 

11. Abraham. — ( ien. xxiii. 3, 4. 16, 18. 

12. By Abraham in the purchase of land.— 
Gen. xxiii. 16. 

13. By putting the hand of the person sworn 
under the thigh of the person administering. — 
Gen. xxiv. 2, 3. 

14. Earrings, bracelets, jewels, etc.- Gen. xxiv. 
22, 30, 53. 

15. Jacob at Bethel.— Gen. xxviii. 22. 

16. Jacob, at the grave of Rachel. — Gen. xxxv. 
20. 

17. The embalming of Jacob's body. — Gen. 1. 2. 

18. Aaron. — Ex. xxviii. i. 

19. Moses. — Num. i. 17, 18. 

20. The tribe of Judah. — Num. x. 14. 

21. Saul, by falling on his sword. — I. Sam. 
.xxxi. 4. 

22. The house of the rolls, or books, the king's 
library. — Ezra vi. i. 

23. Repent. — Malt. iv. 17. 

24. Cornelius. — ,'\cts x. 3. 

OLD TESTAMENT QUERIES 

1. Who built Nineveh? 

2. Who suggested selling Joseph to the Ish- 
maelites? 



154 



BIBLE CURIOSITIES AND MEMORY-TESTS 



3. \\"hat was the name of Joseph's wife in 
Egypt ? 

4. From whom did Moses receive his name? 

5. Who built a monument in the middle of a 
river, and why? 

6. What criminal in his confession said, "I 
saw, I coveted, I took"? 

7. Who said, "As for me and my house, we 
will serve the Lord"? 

8. Who said, "Ye are witnesses against your- 
selves" ? 

9. Who told his life's secret to a woman with 
disastrous results? 

10. What is the most noted instance of devoted 
friendship? 

11. Six women once took a journey which re- 
sulted in a wedding. Y'ho were the bride and 
groom ? 

12. From what king did David take both crown 
and capital ? 

13. Whose head was cut off and thrown over 
a wall at the suggestion of a woman ? 

14. Who does the Bible say had six fingers 
on each hand and si.x toes on each foot ? 

15. Who preferred in the time of trouble to 
fall into God's hands, rather than into the hands 
of man ? 

l5. \\"hose daughter was Solomon's first wife? 

17. Who built Tadmor (Palmyra) in the 
desert? 

18. What two Old Testament persons fasted 
forty days ? 

19. What queen sent a message with a forged 
signature? 

20. Who destroyed the brazen serpent Moses 
made ? 

21. What laboring men were so honest that no 
accounts were kept ? 

22. By whom was Solomon's temple destroyed? 

23. To which son of Jacob was the birthright 
given when taken from Reuben ? 

24. Whose faces were like the faces of lions? 

25. What tribe furnished the counselors of 
Israel ? 

26. What tribe of Israel was specially charac- 
terized by sincerity? 

2"]. Who were the doorkeepers of the ark? 

28. To whom was applied the military title of 
general? 

29. What king had eighty-eight children? 

30. ^Vho was in command of one million of 
soldiers? 

31. AYhat queen in Bible times is described as 
that "wicked woman"? 

32. YHio, of the kings of Israel, was carried 
captive to Babylon, and brought back to Jeru- 
salem? 



33. What king of Judah had not seen a copy of 
the law till he was twenty-six years old? 

34. What women helped to rebuild the walls of 
Jerusalem? 

35. Who said, "The Lord gave, and the Lord 
hath taken away"? 

36. Who said, "All that a man hath will he give 
for his life"? 

37. Who expressed a desire to be where the 
wicked cease from troubling and the weary are 
at rest? 

38. Who said, "Though he slay me, yet will I 
trust him" ? 

39. Who says "in his heart. There is no 
God"? 

40. Who acknowledges that the lines are fallen 
unto him in pleasant places ? 

41. Who said, "All men are liars"? 

42. Who said, "He who ruleth his spirit is bet- 
ter than he who taketh a city"? 

43. Who said, "A man that hath friends must 
show himself friendly"? 

44. Who does the Bible say "cannot prosper"? 

45. Who prayed, "Give me neither poverty nor 
riches" ? 

46. Who said, "There is no discharge in that 
war"? 

47. To whom was it revealed several hundred 
years before that the Redeemer should be born 
of a virgin ? 

48. Who said, "The host of heaven shall be dis- 
solved"? 

49. Who lamented "the harvest is past, and 
the summer is ended" ? 

50. W^ho asked, "Can the Ethiopian change his 
skin"? 

51. What other nation besides Israel is to be 
scattered to all people ? 

52. Who was Belshazzar's successor as king 
of the Chaldeans? 

53. Who said, "Ephraim is joined to his idols, 
let him alone"? 

54. What prophet was a herdsman? 

55. What prophet was sent as a missionary to 
the Gentiles? 

56. What prophet said, "In wrath, remember 
mercy" ? 

57. What prophet said, "They save wages to 
put into a bag with holes"? 

58. Who said, "At evening time it shall be 
light"? 

59. Who asked the question, "Will a man rob 
God ?" 

60. What became of the golden calf set up by 
Aaron in the wilderness journey? 

61. For how long did marriage ej?empt a man 
from going to war? 



BIBLE CURIOSITIES AND MEMOkV -TICS IS 



155 



Answers Th Old TestameK-t Queries 

1. Assliur. — Gen. x. ii. 

2. Judah. — Gen. xxxvii. 26, ly. 

3. Ascnatli. — Gen. xli. 43. 

4. Pharaoh's daughter. — Ex. ii. 10. 

5. Joshua, in Jordan, as a memorial of God's 
deliverance. — Josh. i\-. 9. 

6. Achan. — Josh. vii. 21. 

7. Joshua. — Josh. xxiv. 15. 

8. Joshua. — Josh. xxi\-. 22. 

9. Samson. — Judg. x\i. 17. 

10. That of Jonathan and IXwid. — I. Sam. 
xviii. I. 

11. Abigail and David. — I. Sam. xxv. 42. 

12. From the king of the ,\nnnonites. — II. 
Sam. xii. 29, 30. 

13. The head of Sheba. — II. Sam. xx. 21. 

14. Goliath. — II. Sam. xxi. 20. 

15. David. — II. Sam. xxiv. 14. 

16. The daughter of Pharaoh. King of Egvpt. 
— I. Kings iii. I. 

17. Solomon. — I. Kings ix. 17, 18. 

18. Moses and Elijah. — E.x. xxiv. 18; I. Kings 
xix. 8. 9. 

19. Jezebel used Ahab's name. — I. Kings xxi. S. 

20. Hezekiah. — II. Kings xviii. 4. 

21. Workmen on the temple. — II. Kings xxii. 7. 

22. Nebuchadnezzar. — II. Kings xxv. i-ii. 

23. To Joseph. — I. Chron. v. i. 

24. The Gadites. — I. Chron. xii. 8. 

25. Issachar. — I. Chron. xii. }y2. 

26. Zebulon. — I. Chron. xii. },'>,. 

27. Obed-Edom and Jehiah. — I. Chron. xv. 24. 

28. Joab, of David's army. — I. Chron. x.xvii. 34. 

29. Rehoboam. — II. Chron. xi. 21. 

30. Zerah. — II. Chron. xiv. 9. 

31. Athaliah. — II. Chron. xxiv. 7. 

32. Manasseh. — II. Chron. xxxiii. II, 13. 

33. Josiah. — II. Chron. xxxiv. I, 18. 

34. The daughters of Shallum. — N^eh. iii. 12. 

35. Job.— Job i. 21. 

36. Satan.— Job ii. 4. 

37. Job. — Job iii. 17. 

38. Job.— Job xiii. 15. 

39. The fool. — Psalms xiv. i. 

40. David. — Psalms xvi. 6. 

41. David. — Psalms cxvi. 11. 

42. Solomon. — Prov. xvi. 32. 

43. Solomon. — Prov. xviii. 24. 

44. He that covereth his sins. — Prov. xxviii. 13. 

45. Agur. — Prov. xxx. 8. 

46. Solomon. — Eccl. viii. 8. 

47. Ahaz. — Isaiah vii. 14. 

48. Isaiah, God's command. — Isaiah xxxiv. 4. 

49. The Jews. — Jer. viii. 20. 

50. Jeremiah. — Jer. xiii. 23. 



51. Elamites. — Jer. xlix. 36. 

52. 1 );inns.- I );iii. \'. 3 1. 

53. The prophet I Insea.- I losea iv. 17, 

54. -\nins. - .\miis i. i. 

55. Jonah. — Jonah i. 2. 

56. llal)akku'k.-llab. iii. 2. 

57. Ilaggai. — Hag. i. 6. 

58. Zechariah. — Zech. ,xiv. 7. 

59. ?ilalachi. — Mai. iii. 8. 

60. It was ground tn powiler, mixed \\\\\\ water, 
and the Israelites foreeil to drink it. — Ex. xxxii. 
20. 

61. Eor a )-car. "He shall be free at home for 
one year, and he shall cheer his wife which he 
hath taken." — Dent. xxi\'. 5. 

NEW TEST-V:^1EXT QUERIES 

1. A\'ho was reigning in fudah when Joseph 
returned fmni Egypt with the child lesus? 

2. "Who \\-erc the first called of the disciples? 

3. Whose birthday was celebrated bv dancing? 

4. \\'ith whom did Jesus spend his last Sab- 
Iiath ' 

5. Who was the only person, according to the 
New Testament, who raised ,a voice in behalf of 
Jesus during the trial? 

6. Who rose from the dead without the inter- 
position of the proi)hets, Jesus, or the apostles? 

7. What leader was seen 1500 years after 
his death ? 

8. Of whom was it said, "She hath done what 
she could" ? 

9. What are the first recorded words of Jesus? 

10. A\'ho paid the hotel bill of a man who had 
been robbed ? 

11. To what king did Christ refer when he said, 
"Go ye and tell that fox"? 

12. Who asked Jesus, ".Vrt thou only a stranger 
in Jerusalem?" 

13. Who testified of Jesus that he was both his 
successor and predecessor? 

14. By whom are we told to "search the Scrip- 
tures" ? 

15. What is the test of discipleship? 

16. Whose curiosity was checked by Christ, and 
how ? 

17. AA'ho is pronounced a doctor of the law? 

18. A\ ho was reading the writings of a prophet 
while riding in a chariot? 

19. What were Raid's first worils after con- 
version ? 

20. Who was the first apostle to raise a dead 
person to life ? 

21. Wdiich of the disciples was a tanner? 

22. NA'ho, in speaking of Christ, said, "He 
went about doing good" ? 



156 



BIBLE CURIOSITIES AND MEMORY-TESTS 



23. Who was the first Christian convert in 
Europe ? 

24. What Athenian judge was converted under 
Paul's preaching? 

25. What emperor banished all Jews from 
Rome? 

26. Of whom was it said, "He was mighty in 
the Scriptures" ? 

27. What prisoner in chains stood on the steps 
of a castle and addressed a multitude? 

28. Who was St. Paul's teacher? 

29. What unrighteous judge trembled before a 
prisoner in chains? 

30. Who was captain of the guard that took 
Paul to Rome ? 

31. Who was the chief man on the island of 
Melita, where Paul was shipwrecked ? 

32. How long did Paul preach at Rome ? 

33. What apostle expressed a desire to travel 
in Spain? 

34. What Christian was recommended to the 
apostles for hospitality? 

35. What woman carried St. Paul's epistle to 
the Romans ? 

36. Who said, "At the name of Jesus every 
knee shall bow" ? 

37. Who said, "Hold fast to that which is 
good" ? 

38. What example have we of early piety in 
the New Testament ? 

39. Name three heathen writers whom St. 
Paul quotes. 

40. Who said, "To the pure all things are 
pure" ? 

41. Who said, "Every good gift and every per- 
fect gift is from above"? 

42. Who said, "The devils also believe that 
there is one God" ? 

43. Name three persons whose afflictions were 
a source of enjoyment. 

44. What member of the primitive Church tried 
the patience of the loving disciple John? 

45. God will wipe away all tears from the eyes 
of whom ? 

46. Give the name of two angels mentioned in 
the Bible. 

47. Who was the first Christian martyr? 

48. From what place in Palestine did the As- 
cension take place? 

Answers to New Test.\ment Queries 

1. Archelaus. — ]\Iatt. ii. 22. 

2. John and Andrew. — John i. 37-41. 

3. Herod's. — Matt. xiv. 6. 

4. Simon, the Leper. — Matt. xxvi. 6. 

5. The wife of Pontius Pilate. — Matt, xxvii. 19. 



6. "The Saints that slept arose." — Matt, 
xxvii. 52. 

7. Moses, by Peter, James, and John. — Mark 
ix. 2 and 5. 

8. The woman who poured the ointment on 
the Saviour's head. — Mark xiv. 3, 8. 

9. "How is it that ye sought me ?" — Luke ii. 49. 

10. The good Samaritan. — Luke x. 35. 

11. King Herod. — Luke xiii. 31, 32. 

12. Cleopas. — Luke xxiv. 18. 

13. John the Baptist.— John i. 15. 

14. Our Saviour.— John v. 39. 

15. "If ye have love one to another."— John 
xiii. 35. 

16. Peter's. — John xxi. 21, 22. 

17. Gamaliel. — Acts v. 34. 

18. The eunuch. — Acts viii. 30. 

19. "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" — 
Acts ix. 6. 

20. Peter. — Acts ix. 40. 

21. Simon.— Acts x. 6. 

22. Simon Peter. — Acts x. 38. 

23. Lydia, of Thyatira. — Acts xvi. 14. 

24. Dionysius. — Acts xvii. 34. 

25. Claudius. — Acts xviii. 2. 

26. Apollos. — Acts xviii. 24. 

27. Paul. — Acts xxi. 40. 

28. Gamaliel. — Acts xxii. 3. 

29. Felix. — Acts xxiv. 25. 

30. Julius. — Acts xxvii. I. 

31. Publius. — Acts xxviii. 7. 

32. Two years. — Acts xxviii. 30. 

33. St. Paul. — Rom. xv. 24, 28. 

34. Gaius. — Rom. xvi. 23. 

35. Phebe. — Rom. xvi. i. 

36. Paul, to the Philippians. — Phil. ii. 10. 

37. Paul. — I. Thess. v. 21. 

38. Timothy. — II. Tim. iii. 15. 

39. Aratus. — Acts xvii. 28. Menander. — I. Coi. 
XV. 33. Epimenides. — Titus i. 12. 

40. Paul. — Titus i. 15. 

41. James. — James i. 17. 

42. James. — James ii. 19. 

43. Paul. — Rom. v. 3; II. Cor. xii. 9, 10. James. 
— James i. 2. Peter. — I. Peter ii. 25. 

44. Diotrephes. — III. John 9. 

45. Those who have washed their robes and 
made them white. — Rev. vii. 13, 17. 

46. Gabriel. — Dan. ix. 21 ; Luke i. 19. Michael. 
— Jude i. 9; Rev. xii. 7. 

47. Stephen. — Acts vii. 54, 60. 

48. Bethany. — Luke xxiv. 50, 51. 

CURIOUS FACTS ABOUT THE BIBLE 

The following interesting statements, said to be the 
fruits of three years' labor by Dr. Thomas Hartwell 



BIBLE CURIOSITIES AND MEMORY-TESTS 



157 



Home, and given by him in his "Introduction to the 
Study of the Scriptures," arc liascd upon an old English 
Bible of the King James \ersion. 

Old Testament. — Kumhcr of books, 39; chap- 
ters, 929; versos, 23,214; words, 593,493: letters, 
2,728,100. 

A^"C' Tcsta)iiciit. — Kumher of books, 27; chap- 
ters, 260; verses, 7,9^9; words, 181,253; letters 
838,380. 

The B;&/i'. — Total number of books, 66; chap- 
ters, 1,189; verses, 31,173; words, 773.746; letters, 
3,566,480. 

Apocrypha. — Number of books, 14; chapters, 
184; verses, 6,031; words, 125,185, 

Old Testament. — The middle book of the Old 
Testament is Pro\-erbs. The middle chapter is 
Job xxix. The middle verse is II. Chronicles xx., 
between verses 17 and 18. The shortest boijk is 
Obadiah. The shortest verse is I. Chronicles i. 25. 
The word "and" occurs 35,543 times. Ezra vii, 
21 contains all the letters of our alphabet. The 
word "Selah" occurs j;i, times and only in the 
poetical books. II. Kings xix. and Isaiah xxxvii. 
are alike. The Book of Esther does not contain 
the words God or Lord. The last two verses of 
II. Chronicles and the opening- verses of the Book 
of Ezra are alike. Ezra ii. and Nehemiah vii. are 
alike. There are nearly 30 books mentioned, Init 
not found in the Bible, consisting of civil records 
and other ancient writings now nearly all lost. 



About 26 of these are alluded to in the Old 
Testament. 

New Testament. — The middle book is II. Thes- 
salonians. Hie middle chapter is between Romans 
xiii. and xiv. The middle verse is Acts xvii. 17. 
The smallest book is II. John. The smallest verse 
IS John xi. 35. The word "and" occurs 10,684 
limes. The name Jesus occurs nearly 700 times 
in the Gospels and Acts, and in the Epistles less 
than 70 times. The name Christ alone occurs 
about 60 times in the Gospels and Acts, and about 
240 times in the Epistles and Revelation. The 
term Jesus Christ occurs 5 times in the Gospels. 

The Bible. — The middle book is Micah. The 
middle (and smallest) chapter is Psalm cxvii. 
The middle verse is Psalm cxviii. 8. The middle 
line is II. Chronicles iv. 16; the largest book is 
that of the Psalms; the largest chapter is Psalm 
cxix. The word Jehovah (or Lord) occurs 6,855 
times. The word "and" occurs 46,22^ times. The 
number of authors of the Bible is 50. The Bible 
was not until modern times divided into chapters 
and verses. The division of chapters has been 
attributed to Lan franc. Archbishop of Canter- 
l)ur)-, in the reign of William I.; but the real 
author of this division was Cardinal Hugo de 
Sancto-Caro, about 1236. The number of lan- 
guages on earMi is estimated at 3,000; the Bible 
or parts of it have been rendered into only about 
180, or, languages and dialects together, 345. 




rf} 



A CHILD'S CALENDAR OF 
GOLDEN THOUGHTS 

3=5^ If} 



A GOLDEN WEEK 

BY HENRY DRUMMOND AND J. R. MILLER 



SUNDAY MORNING 

Reflect the character of Christ, and you will 
become like Christ. To become like Christ is the 
only thing in the world worth caring for. 

Henry Dntmmond. 

If it is the privilege of every friend of Christ to 
be of good cheer, no matter what the circum- 
stances of his life may be, . . . we ought always 
to be cheerful. We ought to carry nnisic in our 
heart and the light of joy in our face wherever 
we go, in whatsoever experiences we find our- 
selves. . . . No other one in the world has such 
secrets of joy as has the Christian. 

/. R. Miller. 



SUNDAY EVENING 

Who is Christ? He who fed the hungry, clothed 
the naked, visited the sick. And where is Christ? 
Where? Whoso shall receive a little child in 
my name receiveth me. 

Henry Dnimmond. 

Cheerfulness is a good angel to the man who 
keeps it in his heart. It helps him to be more 
than conqueror in the struggle of life. He who 
is always of good cheer is a master of circum- 
stances and conditions. Nothing can defeat him. 
Cheerfulness is courage. 

/. R. Miller. 

MONDAY MORNING 

Have you heard that there is another life — a life 
which cannot die, a life which, linked to your 
life, will make the past still bright with pardon, 



and the future rich with hope? This life is in 
his Son. 

Henry Dnimmond. 

The truest way to live is to yield to no burden ; 
to carry the heaviest load with courage and glad- 
ness ; never to let one's eyes be turned downward 
toward the earth, but to keep them ever lifted up 
to the hills. 

/. R. Miller. 



MONDAY EVENING 

The jo3'ful life is the life of the larger mission, 
the disinterested life, the life of the overflow 
from self, the "more abundant life" which comes 
from following Christ. 

Henry Dnimmond. 

We are never to think in our daily and hourly 
living what will most honor us, what will be the 
easiest thing, or the most profitable, but what will 
most honor God. ... If we had learned this 
effacement of self in all our desires, whether in 
our work or in our praying, if God were always 
first in our desire, it would lift up our commonest 
life into a splendor radiant as that in which the 
angels live. 

/. R. Miller. 



TUESDAY MORNING 

Christianity is not a thing to be proved: it is a 
life to be lived. The evidence for Christianity is 
a Christian. 

Henry Dnimmond. 



.58 



A CHILD'S CALENDAR OF COLDKN THOUGHT'S 



159 



Some people think worries are quite harmless. 
They never think of tlieni as sins. But lesus 
spoke very strout;"1y at^ainst anxietv. lie saiil we 
should never worry. It does no goml. It Ljrieves 
our Father, for it shows distrust of his lo\'e and 
goodness. 

/. R. Alillcr. 

TUESDAY EX'ENING 

I c.\NNOT guarantee that the stars will shine 
brighter ... or that when _\ou waken to-mor- 
row a new world will open before you. But I do 
guarantee that Christ will keep that which you 
have committed to him. 

Hciirx DruiiiiiuinJ. 

We can be truest and best blessings to others 
only when we live victoriously ourselves. We 
owe it therefore to the needy sorrowing, tempted 
world about us, to keep our inner life calm, 
quiet, and strong, restful and full of sweet love, 
in whatsoever outer turbulence or trial or oppo- 
sition we must live. The only secret is to abide 
in Christ. 

/. R. Miller. 

WEDNESDAY MORNING 

No one can get joy by merely asking for it. It is 
one of the ripest fruits of the Christian life, and 
like all fruits, must be grown. 

Henry Dniiiiiiiond. 

On all sides the lives of others touch ours, and 
we cannot do just as we please, thinking only of 
ourselves, and our own comfort and good, unless 
we choose to be false to all the instincts of hu- 
manity, and all the requirements of the law of 
Christian love. We must think continually of 
other people. 

/. R. Miller. 



WEDNESDAY EVENING 

Be sure that wherever the religion of Christ ap- 
pears small, or forbidding, or narrow, or inhu- 
man, you are dealing not with the whole — which 
is a matchless moral symmetry — but with some 
cold stone removed from its place, and suggesting 
nothing of the glorious structure from which it 
came. 

Henry Dniinmond. 

It is part of the debt of love we owe to our fel- 
low-men to bring them always the best we have ; 



not gloom and shadow and dishcartenment, but 
cheer, hope, and joy. 

/. R. Miller. 

THURSDAY MORNING 

Spiritu.m. life is the sum total of the functions 
which resist sin. The soul's atmosphere is the 
daily trial, circumstance, and temptation of the 
world. 

Henry Dritinmond. 

Men and women are forever making the same 
mistake. They long to do some beautiful thing 
for Christ, but never think for a moment that 
they can do it in the things of the common days, 
while really the opportunity comes to them every 
day in the duties that seem trivial and common- 
place. Tlie common tasks of our everydays fur- 
nish us the elements which go to make the di- 
vinest deeds. 

/. R. Miller. 

THURSDAY EVENING 

Our sanctification is not in books, or in noble 
enthusiasm, (ir in personal struggles after a bet- 
ter life. It is in the offering of the body of 
Jesus Christ once for all. 

Henry Drnnuuond. 

We need never vex ourselves over the smallness 
of our opportunities; our only care should be 
that we use the opportunities that are given us. 

/. R. Miller. 

FRIDAY MORNING 

Holiness is an infinite compassion for others. 
Greatness is to take the common things of life 
and walk truly among men. Happiness is a great 
love and much serving. 

Henry Dnimnwnd. 

Our friends meet our needs, satisfy our cravings, 
do us good; and we do not think always of the 
other side — what we are to them. The essential 
thing is not to have friends, but to be a friend; 
not to receive, but to give; not what we get, but 
what we give. 

/. R. Miller, 

FRIDAY EVENING 

"The greatest thing," says some one, "a man can 
do for his heavenly Father, is to be kind to some 
of his other children." 

Henry Dnimniond. 



A CHILD'S CALENDAR OF GOLDEN THOUGHTS 



160 

We only begin to live when we begin to love, and 
we begin to love only when self dies and we live 
to bless others. We forget too often that we are 
the body of Christ in this world. The things he 
would do for men we must do. 

/. R. Miller. 

SATURDAY MORNING 

There is no such beauty of character as that 
which comes out in unconscious ways from a 
life made fine by Christ. 

Henry Dniiniiwnd. 

The gate of prayer is a gate of love. Nothing 
unloving can enter it. . . . Whatever other ac- 
ceptable offerings we may bring to the golden 
gate of prayer, it will not be open to us until in 
our heart we bring love. 

/. R. Miller. 



SATURDAY EVENING 

Not in the merely contemplative, but in the 
active, lies true hope; not only in rapture, but in 
reality, lies true life; not alone in the realm of 
ideals, but likewise among tangible things, is 
man's sanctification wrought. 

Henry Driimmond. 



We put our cares into God's hands in prayer, 
and they do not seem to become less. We think 
there has been no answer to our prayers. But 
all the while an unseen hand has been quietly 
shaping, adjusting, and disentangling the com- 
plex affairs in our life that made us anxious. 
We are not conscious of it, but our prayers have 
been receiving continual answer in peace and 
blessing. 

/. R. Miller. 



A GOLDEN MONTH 



BY HENRY DRUMMOND 



FIRST DAY 

The infallible receipt for happiness is to do 
good: and the infallible receipt for doing good is 
to abide in Christ. 



SECOND DAY 
Life is not a holiday, but an education. 

THIRD DAY 

To be willing is a rarer grace than to be doing 
the will of God. For he who is willing may 
sometimes have nothing to do, and must only be 
willing to wait. 

FOURTH DAY 

Every character has an inward spring, let Christ 
be it. Every action has a keynote, let Christ 
see it. 

FIFTH DAY 
There is no higher life than helping others. 



SIXTH DAY 

Joy lies in mere constant living in Christ's pres- 
ence, with all that implies of peace and shelter, 
and of love. 

SEVENTH DAY 

The end of life is simply to do God's will . . . 
whether that be working or waiting, or winning 
or losing, or suffering or recovering, or living or 
dying. 

EIGHTH DAY 

Strength of character may be acquired at work: 
but beauty of character is learned at home. 

NINTH DAY 

To become like Christ is the only thing in the 
world worth caring for, the thing before which 
every ambition of man is folly, and all lower 
achievements vain. 

TENTH DAY 

The final test of religion is not religiousness but 
love. 



A CHILD'S CALENDAR OF GOLDEN THOUGHTS 
ELEVENTH DAY TWJ'.NTIF.TH DAY 



161 



All you have ever said or done or left undone, 
is registered forever in your own nature. 

TWELFTH DAY 

Great trials come at lengtliened intervals, and 
we rise to breast them ; but it is the petty friction 
of our everyday life with one another, the jar of 
business or of work, the discord of tlie ilnniestic 
circle, the collapse of an ambition, the crossing of 
our will, the taking down of our conceit, which 
make inward peace impossible. 

THIRTEENTH DAY 

Do not isolate yourself. Be among men, and 
among things, and among troubles, and difficul- 
ties, and obstacles. 



There are (emplatidns so awful that tlic strong 
thing to do is simply (o step aside and let them 
pass. 

TWENTY-FIRST DAY 

It is astonishing how large a part of Christ's 
precepts is devoted solely to the inculcation of 
liap])iness. How much of his life, too, was spent 
simply in making people hajjpy ! 



TWENTY-SECOND DAY 

It is not hard to give up our rights. . . . The 
difficult tiling is to give up ourselves. The more 
difficult thing still is not to seek things for our- 
selves at all. 



FOURTEENTH DAY 

Pray for yet a little while to redeem the wasted 
years. 

FIFTEENTH DAY 

This is what Christianity is for, to teach men the 
Art of Life, and its whole curriculum lies in one 
word— "Learn of Me." 

SIXTEENTH DAY 



TWENTY-THIRD DAY 

Where is capacity for heaven to come from, if it 
be not developed on earth ? The discipline of life 
is a preparation for meeting the Father. When 
we arrive there to behold his beauty, we must 
ha\e the educated eye ; and that must be trained 
here. 

TWENTY-FOURTH DAY 



This is the hope for the world, that we shall 
learn to love, and in learning that, unlearn all 

By what we have not done, by sins of omission anger and wrath and evil-speaking and malice 

we are judged. and bitterness. 



SEVENTEENTH DAY 

Lord Jesus, as thou wilt I if among thorns I go. 
Still sometimes here and there let a few roses 

blow. 
No I Thou on earth along the thorny path hast 

gone ; 
Then lead me after thee, my Lord; thy will be 

done. 



EIGHTEENTH DAY 

in the 



Christianity wants noth 
much as sunny people. 



arid so 



NINETEENTH DAY 

Remain side by side with him who loved us and 
gave himself for us: and you too will become a 
center of power, a permanently attractive force. 



TWENTY-FIFTH DAY 

Religion is not a strange or added thing, but the 
inspiration of the secular life, the breathing of 
an eternal spirit through the temporal world. 



TWENTY-SIXTH DAY 

I SHALL pass through this world but once. Any 
good thing therefore that I can do, or any kind- 
ness that I can show to any human Iteing, let me 
do it now . . . for I shall not pass this way 
again. 

TWENTY-SEVENTH DAY 

The true discovery of a cliaracter is the discov- 
ery of its ideals. 



162 A CHILD'S CALENDAR OF GOLDEN THOUGHTS 

TWENTY-EIGHTH DAY , THIRTIETH DAY 

No form of vice, not worldliiiess, nor greed of A breath of prayer in the morningf, and the 
gold, nor drunkenness itself, does more to un- morning life is sure. A breath of prayer in the: 
christianize society than evil temper. evening, and the evening blessing comes. 



TWENTY-NINTH DAY 

Heaven lies within, in kindness, in unselfishness, 
in faith, in love, in service. To get these in, get 
Christ in. 



THIRTY-FIRST DAY 

You will find as you look back upon your life that 
the moments when you have really lived are the' 
moments when you have done things in the spirit 
of love. 



A THOUGHT FOR EVERY DAY IN THE MONTH 



God make my life a little light 
Within the world to glow ; 

A tiny flame that burneth bright 
Wherever I may go. 



Are you almost discontented 

With life, little man? 
I will tell you a wonderful trick 
That will bring you contentment, 

If anything can : 
Do something for somebody, quick ! 



Now, when you come to think of it. 
The day is what you make it ; 

And whether good or whether bad, 
Depends on how you take it. 



Do that duty which lies nearest to thee, and 
which thou knowest to be thy duty ; thy second 
duty will have already become clearer. 



There are bridges to cross and the way is long. 
But a purpose in life will make you strong; 
Keep on your lips a cheerful song. 

And always look up, look up ! 



One of the greatest lessons of life is to learn not 
to do what one likes, but to like what one does. 



Remember how easy it is to lose opportunities, 
and how difficult it is to regain them; therefore, 
when they present themselves, make every effort 
to improve them. 



The world is wide and needy. 
And if we all are true, 

The world will be the better 
For what we workers do. 



10 



All the little things are useful, 
And the children must be, too ; 

There is always work made ready 
For the little hands to do. 



One by one thy duties wait thee; 

Let thy whole strength go to each : 
Let no future dreams elate thee ; 

Learn thou first what these can teach. 



A CHILD'S CALENDAR OF GOLDEN THOUGHTS 



163 



li 19 

Between the great things that we cannot do, and When you've work to do, boys, 
the small things we will not do, the danger is that Do it with a will ; 

wc shall do nothing. Those who reach the top, b(jys, 

First must climb the hill. 



Had I an arm to reach the skies, 
Or grasp creation in a span, 

Fd not be measured b^- mv size — 
The mind's the standard of the man. 



Do not try to pass for more than you are worth ; 
if you do your duty, your good qualities of head 
and heart will be discovered and appreciated. 



Think truly, and thy thoughts 
Shall the world's famine feed ; 

Speak truly, and each wonl of thine 
Shall be a fruitful seed; 

Live truly, and thy life shall be 
A great and noble creed. 



14 



The books which help you most are those which 
make you think the most. 



SiNCEHiTY is to speak as we think, to do as we 
pretend and [jrofess, to perform and make good 
what we promise, and really to be what we would 
seem and appear to be. 



Let falsehood be a stranger to thy lips: 
Shame on the policy that first began 
To tamper with the heart to hide its thoughts ! 
And double shame on that unrighteous tongue 
That sold its honesty, and told a lie ! 



15 
To know what is right and fear to do it, this is 
cowardice. 

16 

Dare to do right, dare to be true. 
You have a work no other can do. 



23 
One broken promise brings twenty doubts; there- 
fore we should thoroughly consider what we 
undertake before we make a promise. 

24 

When alone, we have our thoughts to watch ; in 
the family, our temper; in society, our tongue. 



17 
There's many a battle fought daily 

The world knows nothing about ; 
There's many a brave little soldier 

Whose strength puts a legion to rout : 
And he who fights sin single-handed 

Ls more of a hero, I say, 
Than he who leads soldiers to battle, 

And conquers by arms in the fray. 



Laziness travels so slowly that poverty soon 
overtakes him. 



25 

He who has overcome one evil temper has ac- 
quired moral force to overcome another. 

26 
All who joy would win 
Must share it. Happiness was born a twin. 

27 
A singer sang a song of cheer, 

And the great world whistled and smiled, 
For he sang of the love of a Father dear, 

And the trust of a little child. 



164 



A CHILD'S CALENDAR OF GOLDEN THOUGHTS 



And the souls that before had forgotten to pray 
Looked up, and went singing along their way. 

28 
To have what we want is riches; to be able to do 
without is power. 

29 

NoTHixG great is lightly won, 

Nothing won is lost ; 
Every good deed nobly done 

Will repay the cost. 



30 
Look up and not down, 
Look forward and not back, 
Look out and not in, and 
Lend a hand. 



31 

A SACRED burden is this life ye bear; 
Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly, 
Stand up, and walk beneath it steadfastly: 
Fail not for sorrow, falter not for sin ; 
But onward, upward, till the goal ye win. 




?1^8^^ [t] c^^^^ija 



LEGENDS OF JESUS 



str^^s^^ ^ <r^^^m' 



Like ourselves, the early Christians longed to 
know more about the boyhood of Jesus than is 
told in the New Testament. They wanted to 
know something of what he said and did as a 
child, and the kind of games he played. Gradu- 
ally a number of legends grew up round his early 
life, and in the second and third centuries many 
were written down in a style that tries to imitate 
that of the Gospels. Many of the stories are 
foolish, but the following are interesting as show- 
ing what kind of boy the early Christians sup- 
posed Jesus to have been. 

THE WISE MEN OF THE EAST 

When the wise men from the East came to 
Bethlehem to see the infant Jesus, Mary was too 
poor to give them any costly presents in return, 
but she took off the swaddling bands from her 
baby, and gave those to the wise men to take 
back to their distant home. 

As soon as the wise men came to their own 
country again, they showed the swaddling bands, 
and when they told of the wonderful child whom 
they had seen, the princes of the land declared 
that the swaddling bands should be kept among 
the treasures of their country. 

THE ROBBERS WHO FLED 

While in Egypt, Joseph and Mary were travel- 
ing in a part of the country that was quite unsafe 
for passengers, owing to the bands of robbers 
that had their camps there. 

When Joseph and Mary came near one of the 
camps, the robbers listened, and suddenly a great 
fright seized them. They could hear the sounds 
of the travelers, but their fear magnified these 
sounds into the noise of a band of soldiers. 

Leaving their possessions and their prisoners 
in a cave, they fled; and when Joseph and Mary, 
with Jesus, came to the cave, they released the 
prisoners, who were able to recover their prop- 
erty and proceed on their journeys. 



THE GIFTS OF THE EGYPTIANS 

Joseph and Mary were about to set out on their 
return journey from Egypt to Nazareth, when 
many of the wise men and notable women of the 
city in which they were staying came to accom- 
pany them to the gates. 

Outside the city Joseph dismissed the companv, 
but before the family departed, one of the escort 
called the child Jesus to him, and, out of com- 
passion for his poverty, held out a few coppers. 
Others of those who had escorted the family from 
the city did the same, and, although Jesus blushed 
at having a need for such gifts, and felt inclined 
to refuse, yet for the sake of his parents he took 
the charitable offerings, and taught a lesson in 
humility. 

THE THIE\'ES IN THE DESERT 

Joseph and Mary were traveling through a desert 
country when Jesus was a child, and they sud- 
denly came upon a robbers' camp. The two lead- 
er's of the robbers, Titus and Dumachus, saw 
them; and Titus said to his companion: 

'T beseech you let these people go by quietly 
and do not wake our comrades." 

But Dumachus said he would not agree. Titus 
then offered him a sum of money if he would 
remain quiet and do as he was asked, and Du- 
machus at last promised. 

The child Jesus then turned to his mother and 
said : 

"When thirty years have passed by, the Jews 
will crucify me at Jerusalem, and these two 
thieves will be upon crosses at the same time — 
Titus on my right hand and Dumachus on my 
left — and from that time Titus shall go before 
me into paradise." And so it came to pass. 

THE BOY JUDAS ISCARIOT 

Jesus was one day playing with other children, 
when a boy came and sat down by his side. For 



166 



LEGENDS OF JESUS 



n time the boy was quiet, and behaved like other 
children, but suddenly he changed and began to 
try to bite Jesus. 

When he was unable to do this he flew into a 
violent rage, and struck Jesus on the right side, 
so that he cried with the pain. The boy then 
went away, and he grew up to be Judas Iscariot, 
who betrayed his Master. 

THE WONDERFUL BOY 

There vv-as at Jerusalem a schoolmaster named 
Zacchjeus, and to him Jesus was sent that he 
might be taught his letters. When the school- 
master had told his scholar to pronounce A, he 
went on to B, but Jesus said: 

"Tell me first the meaning of A, and then I 
will pronounce B." 

The master was angry at being cjuestioned by 
a boy, but Jesus went on to explain the meanings 
of all the letters himself, so that the master 
greatly marveled, and said : 

"I believe this boy was born before Noah; he 
knows more than any master." 

And his parents could find no master learned 
enough to teach their boy. 

IN NAZARETH* 

Once, when Jesus was only five years old, he sat 
on the doorstep outside his father's workshop, in 
Nazareth, and made clay cuckoos from a lump 
of clay which the potter across the way had given 
him. He was happier than usual. All the chil- 
dren in the quarter had told Jesus that the potter 
was a disobliging man, who wouldn't let himself 
be coaxed, either by soft glances or honeyed 
words, and he had never dared ask aught of him. 
But, 3'ou see, he hardly knew how it had come 
about. He had only stood on his doorstep and, 
with yearning eyes, looked upon the neighbor 
working at his molds, and then that neighbor had 
come over from his stall and given him so much 
clay that it would have been enough to finish a 
whole wine-jug. 

On the stoop of the next house sat Judas, his 
face covered with bruises and his clothes full of 
rents, which he had acquired during his continual 
fights with street urchins. For the moment he 
was quiet, he neither quarreled^ nor fought, but 
worked with a bit of clay, just as Jesus did. But 
this clay he had not been able to procure for him- 
self. He hardly dared venture within sight of the 
potter, who complained that he was in the habit 
of throwing stones at his fragile wares, and 
wou.ld have driven him away with a beating. It 

'Copyrightj igoS, by H 



was lesus who had divided his portion with him. 

When the two children had finished their clay 
cuckoos, they stood the birds up in a ring in front 
of them. These looked just as clay cuckoos have 
always looked. They had big, round lumps to 
stand on in place of feet, short tails, no necks, 
and almost imperceptible wings. 

But, at all events, one saw at once a difference 
in the work of the little playmates. Judas's birds 
were so crooked that they tumbled over continu- 
ally ; and no matter how hard he worked with his 
clumsy little fingers, he couldn't get their bodies 
neat and well formed. Now and then he glanced 
slyly at Jesus, to see how he managed to make 
his birds as smooth and even as the oak-leaves in 
the forests on Mount Tabor. 

As bird after bird was finished, Jesus became 
happier and happier. Each looked more beautiful 
to him than the last, and he regarded them all 
with pride and affection. They were to be his 
playmates, his little brothers; they should sleep 
in his bed, keep him company, and sing to him 
when his mother left him. Never before had he 
thought himself so rich; never again could he 
feel alone or forsaken. 

The big brawny water-carrier came walking 
along, and right after him came the huckster, who 
sat joggingly on his donkey between the large 
empty willow baskets. The water-carrier laid his 
hand on Jesus's curly head and asked him about 
his birds; and Jesus told him that they had names 
and that they could sing. All the little birds were 
come to him from foreign lands, and told him 
things which only he and they knew. And Jesus 
spoke in such a way that both the water-carrier 
and the huckster forgot about their tasks for a 
full hour, to listen to him. 

But when they wished to go farther, Jesus 
pointed to Judas. "See what pretty birds Judas 
makes !" he said. 

Then the huckster good-naturedly stopped his 
donkey and asked Judas if his birds also had 
names and could sing. But Judas knew nothing 
of this. He was stubbornly silent and did not 
raise his eyes from his work, and the huckster 
angrilv kicked one of his birds and rode on. 

In this manner the afternoon passed, and the 
sun sank so far down that its beams could come 
in through the low city gate, which stood at the 
end of the street and was decorated with a 
Roman eagle. This sunshine, which came at the 
close of the day, was perfectly rose-red — as if it 
had become mixed with blood— and it colored 
everything which came in its path, as it filtered 
through the narrow street. It painted the potter's 
vessels as well as the log which creaked under 
enry Holt and Company. 



LEGENDS OF JESUS 



167 



the woodman's saw, and the white veil that cov- 
ered Mary's face. 

But the loveliest of all was the sun's reflection 
as it shone on the little water-puddles which had 
gathered in the big, uneven cracks in the stones 
that covered the street. Suddenly Jesus stuck 
his hand in the puddle nearest him. lie had con- 
ceived the idea that he would paint his gray birds 
with the sparkling sunbeams ^\■hich had given 
such pretty color to the water, the house-walls, 
and everything around him. 

The sunshine took pleasure in letting itself be 
captured by him, like paint in a paint-pot ; and 
when Jesus spread it over the little clay birds, it 
lay still and bedecked them from head to feet 
with a diamond-like luster. 

Judas, who every now and then looked at Jesus 
to see if he made more and prettier birds than 
his, gave a shriek of delight when he saw how 
Jesus painted his clay cuckoos with the sunshine, 
which he caught from the water-pools. Judas 
also dipped his hand in the shining water and 
tried to catch the sunshine. 

But the sunshine wouldn't be caught by him. 
It slipped through his fingers : and no matter how 
fast he tried to move his hands to get hold of it, 
it got away, and he couldn't procure a pinch of 
color for his poor birds. 

"Wait, Judas I" said Jesus. "I'll come and 
paint your birds." 

"No, you sha'n't touch them!" cried Judas. 
"The)f're good enough as they are." 

He rose, his eyebrows contracted into an ugly 
frown, his lips compressed. And be put his broad 
foot on the birds and transformed them, one after 
another, into little flat pieces of clay. 

When all his birds were destroyed, be walked 
over to Jesus, who sat and caressed his birds— 
that glittered like jewels. Judas regarded them 
for a moment in silence, then he raised his foot 
and crushed one of them. 

When Judas took his foot away and saw the 
entire little bird changed into a cake of clay, he 
felt so relieved that he began to laugh, and raised 
his foot to crush another. 

"Judas," said Jesus, "what are you doing? 
Don't you see that they are alive and can sing?" 



But fudas laughed and crushed still another 
bird. 

Jesus looked around for help. Judas was 
heavily built and Jesus had not the strength to 
hold him back. He glanced around for his 
mother. She was not far away, but before she 
could have gone there, Judas would have had 
ample time to destroy the birds. The tears sprang 
to Jestis's eves. Judas had already crushed four 
of his Ijirds. There were only three left. 

He was annoyed with his birds, who stood so 
calmly and let themselves be trampled upon with- 
out paying the slightest attention to the danger. 
Jesus clapped his hands to awaken them; then he 
shouted, "Fly, fly !" 

Then the three birds began to move their tiny 
wings, and, fluttering anxiously, they succeeded 
in swinging themselves up to the eaves of the 
house, where they were safe. 

But when Judas saw that the birds took to their 
wings and flew at Jesus's command, he began to 
weep. He tore his hair, as he had seen his elders 
do when they were in great trouble, and he threw 
himself at Jesus's feet. 

Judas lay there and rolled in the dust before 
Jesus like a dog, and kissed his feet and begged 
that he would raise his foot and crush him, as 
he had done with the clay cuckoos. For Judas 
loved Jesus and admired and worshiped him, and 
at the same time hated him. 

Mary, who sat all the while and watched the 
children's play, came up and lifted Judas in her 
arms and seated him on her lap, and caressed 
him. 

"You poor child !" she said to him, "you do not 
know that you have attempted something which 
no mortal can accomplish. Don't engage in any- 
thing of this kind again, if you do not wish to 
become the unhappiest of mortals ! What would 
happen to any one of us who undertook to com- 
pete with one who paints with sunbeams and 
I3I0WS the breath of life into dead clay?" 

From the boyhood of Jesus let us pass to the 
hour of his crucifixion, with which imagination 
has connected one of the most beautiful of all 
the Christ legends. 



ROBIN REDBREAST 



It happened at the time when our Lord created There have been many histories concerning 

the world, when he not only made heaven and that time, and if we knew them all, we should 
earth, but all the animals and. the plants as well, have light upon everything in this world which 
at the same time giving them their names. we cannot now comprehend. 

♦Copyright, 1908, by Henry Holt and Company. 



168 



LEGENDS OF JESUS 



At that time it happened one day when our 
Lord sat in his paradise and painted the little 
birds, that the colors in our Lord's paint-pot gave 
out, and the goldfinch would have been wdthout 
color if our Lord had not wiped all his paint- 
brushes on its feathers. 

It was then that the donkey got his long ears, 
because he could not remember the name that had 
been given him. 

No sooner had he taken a few steps over the 
meadows of paradise than he forgot, and three 
times he came back to ask his name. At last our 
Lord grew somewhat impatient, took him by his 
two ears, and said : 

"Thv name is ass, ass, ass !" And while he 
thus spake, our Lord pulled both of his ears that 
the ass might hear better, and remember what 
was said to him. It was on the same day also 
that the bee was punished. 

Now, when the bee was created, she began im- 
mediately to gather honey, and the animals and 
human beings wdio caught the delicious odor of 
the honey came and wanted to taste of it. But 
the bee wanted to keep it all for herself, and with 
her poisonous sting pursued every living creature 
that approached her hive. Our Lord saw this and 
at once called the bee to him and punished her. 

"I gave thee the gift of gathering honey, which 
is the sweetest thing in all creation," said our 
Lord, "but I did not give thee the right to be 
cruel to thy neighbor. Remember well that when 
thou stingest any creature who desires to taste 
of thy honey, thou shalt surely die !" 

Ah, yes ! It was at that time, too, that the 
cricket became blind and the ant missed her 
wings. So many strange things happened on that 
dayl 

Our Lord sat there, big and gentle, and planned 
and created all day long, and toward evening he 
conceived the idea of making a little .gray bird. 
"Remember your name is Robin Redbreast," said 
our Lord to the bird, as soon as it was finished. 
Then he held it in the palm of his open hand and 
let it fly. 

After the bird had been testing his wings a 
wdiile, and had seen something of the beautiful 
world in which he was destined to live, he became 
curious to see what he himself was like. He 
noticed that he was entirely gray, and that his 
breast was just as gray as all the rest of him. 
Robin Redbreast twisted and turned in all direc- 
tions as he viewed himself in the mirror of a 
clear lake, but he couldn't find a single red 
feather. Then he flew back to our Lord. 

Our Lord sat there on his throne, big and .gen- 
tle. Out of his hands came butterflies that flut- 
tered about his head ; doves cooed on his shoul- 



ders ; and out of the earth beneath him grew the 
rose, the lily, and the daisy. 

The little bird's heart beat heavily with fright, 
but with easy curves he flew nearer and nearer 
our Lord, till at last he rested on our Lord's hand. 
Then our Lord asked what the little bird wanted. 
"I only wish to ask you about one thing," said 
the little bird. "What is it you wish to know?" 
said our Lord. "Why should I be called Red- 
breast, when I am all gray, from the bill to the 
very end of my tail ? Why am I called Red- 
breast when I do not possess one single red 
feather?" The bird looked beseechingly on our 
Lord with his tiny black eyes — then turned his 
head. About him he saw pheasants all red under 
a sprinkle of gold-dust, parrots with marvelous 
red neck-bands, cocks with red combs, to say 
nothing about the butterflies, the goldfinches, and 
the roses ! And naturally he thought how little 
he needed — just one tiny drop of color on his 
breast, and he too would be a beautiful bird, and 
his name would fit him. "Why should I be called 
Redbreast when I am so entirely gray?" asked the 
bird once again, and waited for our Lord to say: 
"Ah, my friend, I see that I have forgotten to 
paint your breast-feathers red, but wait a moment 
and it shall be done." 

But our Lord only smiled a little and said ; "I 
have called you Robin Redbreast, and Robin 
Redbreast shall your name be, but you must look 
to it that you yourself earn your red breast- 
feathers." Then our Lord lifted his hand and 
let the bird fly once more — out into the world. 

The bird flew down into paradise, meditating 
deeply. What could a little bird like him do to 
earn for himself red feathers? The only thing 
he could think of was to make his nest in a brier- 
bush. He built it among the thorns in the close 
thicket. It looked as if he waited for a rose-leaf 
to cling to his throat and give him color. 

Countless years had come and gone since that 
day, which was the happiest in all the world! 
Human beings had already advanced so far that 
they had learned to cultivate the earth and sail 
the seas. They had procured clothes and orna- 
ments for themselves, and had long since learned 
to build big temples and great cities — such as 
Thebes, Rome, and Jerusalem. 

Then there dawned a nczu day, one that will long 
be remembered in the world's history. On the 
morning of this day Robin Redbreast sat upon a 
little naked hillock outside of Jerusalem's walls, 
and sang to his young ones, who rested in a tiny 
nest in a brier-bush. 

Robin Redbreast told the little ones all about 



LEGENDS OF JESUS 



169 



that wonderful day of creation, and how the Lord 
had given names to everything, just as each Red- 
breast had told it ever since tlie lirst Redbreast 
had heard God's word, and gone ont of God's 
hand. "And mark yon," he ended surrowfnlly, 
"so many years liavc gone, so nianv roses liave 
bloomed, so many little birds have come unt of 
their eggs since Creation ^a^', luit Robin Red- 
breast is still a little gray bird. He has not yet 
succeeded in gaining his red featliers." 

The little young ones opened wide their tiny 
bills, and asked if their forebears had never tried 
to do any great tiling to earn tlie priceless red 
color. 

"We have all done what we could," said the 
little bird, "but we have all gone amiss. E\'en the 
first Rcibin Redbreast met one dav anotlier bird 
exactly like liimself, and he l)cgan innnediatelv to 
love it with such a mighty love tliat he could feel 
his breast burn. 'Ah!' he thought then, 'now I 
understand ! It was our Lord's meaning that I 
should love with so nuich ardor that my breast 
should grow red in color from the very warmth 
of the love that lives in my heart.' But he missed 
it, as all those who came after him have missed it, 
and as even you shall miss it." 

The little young ones twittered, utterly bewil- 
dered, and already began to mourn because the 
red color would not come to beautify their little, 
downy gray breasts. 

"We had also hoped that song would help us," 
said the grown-up bird, speaking in long-drawn- 
out tones — "the first Robin Redbreast sang until 
his heart swelled within him, he was so carried 
away, and he dared to hope anew. 'Ah !' he 
thought, 'it is the glow of the song wdiich lives in 
my soul that will color my breast-feathers red.' 
But he missed it, as all the others have missed it 
and as even you shall miss it." Again was heard 
a sad "peep" from the young ones' half-naked 
throats. 

"We had also counted on our courage and our 
valor," said the bird. "The first Robin Redbreast 
fought bravely with other birds, until his breast 
flamed with the pride of conquest. 'Ah !' he 
thought, 'my breast-feathers shall become red 
from the love of battle which burns in my heart.' 
He, too, missed it, as all those who came after 
him have missed it, and as even you shall miss 
it." The little young ones peeped courageously 
that they still wished to try and win the much 
sought-for prize, but the bird answered them sor- 
rowfully that it would be impossible. What could 
they do when so many splendid ancestors had 
missed the mark? What could they do more than 
love, sing, and fight? What could— the little bird 
stopped short, for out of one of the gates of 



Jerusalem came a crowd of people marching, and 
the wliole procession rushed toward the hillock, 
where the bird had its nest. There were riders 
on proud horses, soldiers with long spears, execu- 
tiiiners with nails and hammers. There were 
judges and priests in the procession, weeping 
women, and al)0ve all a mob of mad, loose people 
running about — a filthy, howding mob of loiterers. 

The little gray bird sat trembling on the edge 
of liis nest. He feared each instant that the little 
brier-bush would be trampled down and his young 
ones killed ! 

"Be careful !" he cried to the little defenseless 
young ones, "creep together and remain quiet. 
Here comes a horse that will ride right over us! 
Here comes a warrior with iron-shod sandals I 
Here comes the whole wild, storming mob!" Im- 
mediately the bird ceased liis cry of warning and 
grew calm and quiet. He almost forgot the 
danger hovering over him. Finally he hopped 
down into the nest and spread his wings over the 
young ones. 

"Oh ! this is too terrible," said he. "I don't 
\vish you to witness this awful sight I There are 
three miscreants who are going to be crucified !" 
And he spread his wdngs so that the little ones 
could see nothing. 

They caught only the sound of hammers, the 
cries of anguish, and the wild shrieks of the mob. 

Robin Redbreast followed the wdiole spectacle 
with liis eyes, which grew big with terror. He 
could not take his glance from the three unfortu- 
nates. 



"How terrible human beings 



■ !" said the 



bird after a little while. "It isn't enough that 
they nail these poor creatures to a cross, but they 
must needs place a crown of piercing thorns upon 
the head of one of them. I see that the thorns 
have wounded his brow so that the blood flows," 
he continued. "And this man is so beautiful, and 
looks about him with such mild glances, that every 
one ought to love him. I feel as if an arrow were 
shooting through my heart, wdien I see him suf- 
fer !" 

The little bird began to feel a stronger and 
stronger pity for the thorn-crowned sufferer. 
"Oh ! if I were only my brother the eagle," 
thought he, "I would draw the nails from his 
hands, and with my strong claws I would drive 
away all those wdio torture him!" He saw how 
the blood trickled down from the brow of the 
Crucified One, and he could no longer remain 
quiet in his nest. 

"Even if I am little and weak, I can still do 
something for this poor tortured one," tliouglit 
the bird. Then he left his nest and flew out into 
the air, striking wide circles around the Crucified 



170 



LEGENDS OF JESUS 



One. He flew around him several times without 
daring to approach, for he was a shy little bird, 
who had never dared to go near a human being. 
But little by little he gained courage, flew close to 
him, and drew with his little bill a thorn that 
had become imbedded in the brow of the Crucified 
One. And as he did this there fell on his breast 
a drop of blood from the face of the Crucified 
One ; it spread quickly and floated out and col- 
ored all the little fine breast-feathers. 

Then the Crucifietl One opened his lips and 
whispered to the bird : "Because of thy compas- 
sion, thou hast won all that thy kind have been 



striving after, ever since the world was created." 
As soon as the bird had returned to his nest 

his young ones cried to him: "Thy breast is red! 

Thy breast-feathers are redder than the roses !" 
"It is only a drop of blood from the poor man's 

forehead," said the bird; "it will vanish as soon 

as I bathe in a pool or a clear well." 

But no matter how much the little bird bathed, 

the red color did not vanish— and when his little 

young ones grew up, the blood-red color shoae 

also on their breast-feathers, just as it shines on 

every Robin Redbreast's throat and breast until 

this very day. 



Fr-m a cnrhnn print by Braun A- Co., of P.iri^ nnd New York. 



P" 




'THE MADONNA OF THE CHAIR. 




truiii the piiiutiiL^'i by Ary bchttlij. 



CHRIST THE REWARDER. 
CHRIST THE CONSOLER. 



Cf3 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS 
FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



CHAPTER I 

THE MESSAGE THAT CAME TO MARY 

In the beginning God made tlie world very good, 
but Satan, God's enemy, brought sin into it, and 
so God's beautiful world was all spoiled. 

The good God looked down from heaven, and 
it made him sorry to see the ruin that sin had 
made. He wanted to teach people how to be bet- 
ter, and it grieved him to pcmish them for their 
bad deeds, so he thought of a plan to help them. 
He would send his own dear Son to hve on earth 
and show the people how to be good, and to die 
for their sins upon the cross. 

So this is the story of God's plan and how he 
sent his Son to live on earth. 

In a little village called Nazareth there lived a 
maiden called Mary. She was quite a poor maid, 
not grand or rich, but she was so good, so pure and 
gentle that God chose her out of all people in the 
world to help in his plan. 

Mary was sitting by herself one day in her lit- 
tle room when suddenly she heard a voice calling 
her. She started, wondering who it could be, for 
she had thought she was alone. But when she 
looked up she saw, standing before her, a shining 
angel, one of God's messengers sent down from 
heaven. 

The angel was very beautiful and looked kindly 
at her, but Mary was a little afraid, for she had 
never seen an angel before. She wondered why 
he had come to her and she waited trembling to 
hear him speak. 

But when she heard his gentle voice she soon 
forgot to be afraid. He called her by her own 
name, Mary, as if he knew her well, and then he 
told her that God was so well pleased with her 
that he was going to send her a little baby. There 
were many little babies in the world but this baby 
would be different from any other, for he was 
God's own Son, the King of heaven. 

Mary listened quietly to all that the angel said 
and did not ask any questions. She did not even 
wonder why such a poor maiden as she was 



should be chosen to be the mother of the King, 
but she humbly bowed her head before the angel 
and said she was ready to do whatever God 
wished. 

It was in the springtime that the angel came to 
bring God's message to Mary, the time when all 
the flowers begin to wake up, and the trees put 
on their dresses of green leaves. But the days 
and months went by and it was cold bleak winter 
before the promised baby came. 

]\Iary had set out on a long journey those cold 
wintry days. She was obliged to go to the far-off 
village of Bethlehem, and Joseph, her husband, 
went with her. He took great care of her, but 
the way was long and IMary was very tired by the 
time they reached their journey's end. They went 
at once to the village inn where strangers were 
allowed to stay, but when they asked if they 
might come in and rest they were told that the 
inn was quite full and there was no room for 
them at all. Perhaps if they had been rich people 
some one would have made room for them, but 
no one cared to trouble about such poor-looking 
people. 

At last, however, they found a place where 
they could stay all night. But it was only a stable 
where an ox and an ass were feeding together 
and where there was a little straw to rest upon. 

And it was on that night, in the little cold, 
bare stabl,e, that the baby was born. The Son of 
God left his beautiful home in heaven, where 
the shining angels live, and came to earth as a 
tiny, helpless baby, and was born in a poor stable. 

There was no soft pillow for his head, only a 
handful of straw; no comfortable cradle where 
he might be rocked to sleep, but only the wooden 
manger which held the food for the ox and the 
ass. There were no shining angels to wait on 
him, only his poor sweet mother; no fine soft 
clothes to wrap him in, but only a few strips of 
linen to wind round his little limbs. 

Would any one have guessed that this was 
really a baby King, with no servants, no palace, 
no fine clothes? Ah! but his mother knew, for 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



173 



the angel told her. and \'erv soon either people 
were to know the wonderful news as well. 



CHAPTER II 

HOW THE ANGEL BROUOHT GOOD NEWS 

On the same night as the haby was born in the 
village of Bethlehem there were some shepherils 
in the fields not far ott taking care of their sheep. 
In that country there were nian\- wild beasts that 
prowled about all night, and they would try to 
snatch a lamb from the flock if the shepherd was 
not very quick and watchful. So these shepherds 
would make fires of dr\- branches that the light 
might frighten away the eeil lieasts, and then 
they would sit keeping watch all the long night 
under the stars. 

They had sat watching for some time that cold 
night when suddenly a bright light shone around 
them, brighter than the glow of the fire, more 
shining than the starlight. And in the middle oi 
this beautiful light they saw an angel standing 
quite near to them. 

The shepherds were terribly afraid as they 
looked — the strange light \yas so bright and the 
shining angel stood so near. But the angel saw 
how frightened they were and told them there 
was nothing to be afraid of. The good news 
which he brought was so full of joy that it ought 
to make every one in the whole world glad and 
happy. 

He told them that not very far off in the village 
of Bethlehem a little baby had been born that night 
— a baby who was God's own Son, who had come 
to earth to show people how to be good and 
happy and to save them from their sins. 

And then the angel went on to tell the wonder- 
ing shepherds how thev w"ould know that this 
news was true. They had only to go to the little 
village and look in the poor stable and there they 
would find the baby lying in a manger. 

The dazzling light grew brighter and brighter 
as the angel spoke, and suddenly, when the good 
news had all been told, it seemed as if heaven 
opened and the whole sky was full of shining 
angels singing and praising God. How could 
they stay in heaven when the King had just come 
to earth, when God in his glory had been so 
good, and was sending peace and kindness into 
the world? So together they sang their Christ- 
mas song, "Glory to God in the hi.ghest, and on 
earth peace, good will toward men." 

Then the li.ght faded, the angels went back to 
heaven, and the shepherds were left alone again 
in the quiet fields with their sheep. But they did 
not wait there long or wonder what they should 



do next. The angel had told them where they 
would find the new-burn King, and lhe_\- set out 
at (ince to seek hnn. The\' knew that God would 
take care of their sheep wdiile they were away, 
so tlie)' all went together as quickly as they could 
and ne\-er stojjped until they reached the little 
\'illage. 

And there, in the poor stable, just as the angel 
had said, the)- found the little baby lying in the 
manger, with his mother, Mary, watching over 
him, and the ox and the ass close by. 

Then the shepherds knelt down rm the rough 
floor, and took oft' their caps and bent their heads 
in worship before the baby King. It did not 
matter to them that he wore no golden crown, 
that his throne was only a poor manger bed. 
They were thinking still of the glory of those 
shining angels, and, like Hilary, they knew he 
was indeed a King. 

Perhaps the}- br(-)Ught him little presents, a soft 
lamb's fleece to wrap him in, a Inaf of their own 
bread, or a handful of fruit. They would want 
to give him the very best they had, but the best 
of all presents they brought to him was the love 
of their hearts. Then they went back to look 
after their sheep, but they never forgot the joy 
of that night. 

JMary's gentle heart was glad too, as she sat 
and rocked her baby to sleep. She would always 
remember the visit of these poor shepherds, for 
they were the first to come to greet the little 
King. 

CHAPTER III 

THE \\-ISE MEN ASU THE ST,\R 

The next people who came to worship the new- 
born King were not at all like those poor shep- 
herds, and they learned the good news in quite a 
dift'erent way. 

\'ery far off in another country there lived 
three wise men who knew a great deal about the 
stars. They would spend whole nights looking 
up into the sk\-, learnin.g to count the stars and 
calling each one by its own name. These men 
were looking up as usual into the sky one night 
\\-hen they saw a star which they had never seen 
before. It was brighter than any of the other 
stars, and the_\- knew at once that it was quite a 
new one, and that it meant that something won- 
derful had happened on earth, that some king 
had been born into the world. 

The wise men felt thc\- could not rest until 
they had found out what this w-onderful star 
could mean. So the)' packed up their things and 
took their camels and set out to follow the star 
wherever it should lead them. They did not 



174 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



know at all where they were sniiiQ-, but the beauti- 
ful star always pointed the way. It led them on 
and on, a bins; jriurncw until the)' came to a great 
city called Jerusalem which was not \'cry far 
from the village of Bethlehem. The king of the 
country Hved in that cit)-. His name was Herod, 
and he was a bad, cruel man. 

Now, when the wise men reached the great 
city they went at once to the palace and asked if 
there had been a baby king born there, and then 
they told all about the new star they had seen 
and how they felt sure it meant that a king had 
been born somewhere. They told, too, how the 
star had led them from their far-away home un- 
til it had brought them to that city. 

Herod, the wicked king, was troubled and angry 
when he heard this. He did not like to think 
that another king had been born in his country 
who might take away his crown and his palace 
and be king instead of him. \Yhere could this 
wonderful baby be? No one had even heard of 
him. The best plan would be to let the wise men 
go on and find him for themselyes. So he sent 
them away, but told them as soon as they found 
the baby to be sure to come back to tell him all 
about it. The cruel king really meant to kill the 
baby if he could find out where he was. But he 
pretended to the wise men that he too was anx- 
ious to give him presents and worship him. 

The wise men promised Herod to do as he 
asked, and then they set out again on their jour- 
ney. They felt ver)- sorrowful when they started, 
for it seemed so difficult to find the new-born 
King for whom they were seeking. But, oh ! 
how glad they were when they looked up into the 
sky and saw there again the bright new star 
pointing the way as it had done before. They 
went on gladly now, following the star until they 
came to the little village of Bethlehem. There 
the star stopped, and there the}- found the little 
baby King, and just as the shepherds had done, 
they knelt down anfl worshiped him, bringing out 
their splendid presents fit for any king, and lay- 
ing them at the baby's feet. 

Then with happy hearts the wise men set out 
to return to their own country. But they did not 
go back to tell Iving Herod where they had found 
the baby. God had told them in a dream that 
the wicked king would try to kill him. So they 
went quietly home another way, while King 
Herod waited for them in his palace. 

CHAPTER IV 

THE baby's name 

It was time now to give the baby his name, and 
take him to God's house, just as we take little 



babies to church and give them to God to be his 
children, ^^'e call God's house a church, but in 
that land it was called a temple, and the temple 
where they took the. baby was the most won- 
derful and most beautiful house that ever was 
built. 

Mary did not need to think what naine she 
would give the baby. The angel had told her 
long ago that his name was to be called Jesus. 
It is the sweetest name in all the world because 
it means Saviour, one who came to save people 
from sin and from punishment. 

It was the rule, then, that when a baby was 
brought to God's house the mother should bring 
a present with her to give to God. If the mother 
was rich she brought a little lamb as a present, 
but if she was poor and had not money enough to 
buy a lamb, she brought two doves or two pig- 
eons. 

So into the great, beautiful temple Mary car- 
ried her baby and her little gift of two young 
pigeons. No one took much notice of the poor 
mother and her child. They did not know that 
the baby was different from every other child, 
and that all the beautiful temple belonged to him, 
because he was God's Son. 

Presently the priest, God's servant, would 
come, and then Mary would lay her baby in his 
arms and tell him she had brought her first-born 
Son to give him to God. 

Then the priest would lay his hand on the little 
soft head, and pray God to take care of the baby 
all his life, and keep him safe from harm. 

But wdien the priest had laid the baby back in 
his mother's arms, and she was turning to leave 
the temple, she was stopped by an old man called 
Simeon, who stood waiting close by. He told her 
he had waited to see the child, for God had prom- 
ised he should see the baby King before he died. 
Simeon took Jesus from his mother's arms and 
held him close and tenderly. And then his heart 
was so full of joy and thankfulness that he began 
to praise God and to speak very beautiful words 
about the child. He called Jesus a light sent 
by God to lighten the world, just as sunshine 
conies into a dark room and makes it bright and 
sunny. 

While Simeon was still speaking some one else 
came up — an old woman called Anna. She saw 
the old man with the baby in his arms, and heard 
the words he spoke. She, too, had longed to see 
God's Son, and so she went and stood close by 
and praised God too with all her heart. 

Then Mary took Jesus back in her arms and 
carried him home. And she never forgot the 
words of the old man and all that had happened 
in the beautiful temple. 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR ]JTTLE CHILDREN 



17S 



CHAPTER V 

KING Herod's wickkd tlan 

In the g^rand palace at Jerusalem KiiiQ- Heroil 
sat waiting for the wise men to come back to tell 
him if they had found the newTiorn King, He 
waited many days, always hoping for news, liut 
after a long time he began to feel certain that the 
wise men did not mean to come back at all. Per- 
haps they had guessed that he wanted to harm 
the baby. This made him sit very angry tliat he 
longed more than ever to kill the little King. He 
felt sure that the wise men had gone to Bethle- 
hem, but how was he to know wdiich was the 
baby King among all the other children in the 
village? Then he thought of a cruel, wicked 
plan, and he gave orders to his soldiers to go to 
Bethlehem and kill every one of the babies they 
found in the village, so that the little King would 
surely be killed among the rest. 

But God was taking care of the baby and no 
harm could come near him. Long before the sol- 
diers could reach the village God's angel came to 
Joseph in the night and told him that he must 
quickly get ready to set out on a journe)-. He 
must take the young child and I\Iary his mother 
and go as fast as he could away from the village 
and journey on until he came to a far-away coun- 
try. There the baby would be safe from King 
Herod's wicked plans. 

Joseph did not lose any time, but did exactly 
as the angel bade him. He did not even wait for 
the morning light, but while it was still dark 
night he put the saddle on the ass and packed up 
their things. Then he gently told Mary all about 
the soldiers that were on their way to kill the 
child, and how they must set out at once to escape 
to a place where they would be safe. 

Perhaps Mary was a little- frightened at first. 
The night was so dark and it was so terrible to 
think of those cruel soldiers who wanted to kill 
her baby. She would hold him very close in her 
arms, and feel how precious he was, but she 
knew that God would take care of her and the 
child, so she was not greatly afraid. Then when 
all was ready Joseph lifted her into the saddle, 
the baby lying safely sleeping in her arms, and 
led the ass quietly out of the village. No one 
saw them go, for it was still night. Only the 
kind stars looked down and .gave them a little 
light to find their way, and I think the angels too 
were there, guarding the sleeping child. 

So when the soldiers came to the village and 
cruelly killed all the little children there, they did 
not kill the baby Jesus. He was far away by 
that time, lying safe and warm in his mother's 
arms, journeying on to the distant country 



where King Herod's cruel hate could not reach 
him. 

CH.^PTER VI 

THE HOME ;\T N.'\Z/\RETII 

Now Herod was very angry because the wise 
men did not come back to tell him if they had 
ioimd the new-born King. He .gave orders by 
which (he child Jesus would have been killed had 
not his parents, warned by God's angel, fled with 
him into Egypt. 

After ]\Iary and Joseph had lived for some 
time in that far-away country, God's angel came 
again one night to Joseph and told him, in a 
dream, that he might take the baby Jesus home 
now. King Herod was ilead and no one would 
try any longer to harm the child. 

So Joseph saddled the ass again and Mary got 
ready for the journey. But this time her heart 
was happ)' and peaceful, for there was nothing 
now to fear. The_\- need not hurrv or travel 
quickly, and the)' could start now in the daytime 
wdien the sun was shining instead of in the dark 
night. How thankful ^Lary was to feel that all 
was safe and well, that thev were going home, 
and that she held her baby safe in her arms. 

But before they reached home Joseph heard 
some news that troubled him. There was another 
king now nt Jerusalem — a son of the wicked King 
Her.id. Joseph was sorelv afraid that he might 
be cruel and wicked too, and might wish to harm 
the chdd. So, although God had told him that 
there was nothing to fear, Joseijh was afraid and 
woidd not go home, but turned aside and went to 
live in another villa.ge called Nazareth, wdiich he 
t'nought was safer. There he set up his carpen- 
ter's shop, and j\Iary made a home in one of the 
poor little village houses. 

There the child Jesus grew dav 1)V day just as 
other children grow, learning to work and play 
and growdng taller and stronger as time went on. 
All this he did just as other children do, but there 
was one great difference between him and cverv 
other child. He was never naughty and he never 
needed to be punished. No one ever heard him 
say a cross or angry wonl. His little hand was 
ne\-er lifted to strike a blow, and he was never 
disobedient. Whatever his mother told him to 
do, he did it at once, and as he grew older he 
nmst often have helped her to keep the house 
tidy, and he must have worked, too, with 'Joseph 
in the carpenter's shop. Think what a happy 
home that must have been, where the child was 
always good and sunny-teiupered, always ready to 
help, always kind and gentle and unsellish. 

So when you think of Jesus in his happy home 



STORIES FROM THE LIFl' OF JESUS FOR UTTLIC CHILDREN 



.77 



at Nazareth it ought to make \oii wish to ]ie hke 
him, for if ) ou tr\- to be Hke iiini vou will lie 
happy too. Ami if you ask hiui, he will hel|) nou 
to be gentle auJ kiud aud obedieut. Vov he re- 
members just how it felt to be a little child like 
you, and he knows how diflicult it sonietuiies is 
for you to be good. It was not onl_\- to help 
grown-up people that he came to li\c on earth, 
but to show little children too how to be good. 

"For he is our chiUlliood's pattern, 
Da>" li>* da}' like us lie ,!;rcw, 
He was Httle, \\'oal<. anil iKlpless, 
Tears and smiles like iis he knew ; 
And he fecleth lor our sadness. 
And he shareth in our gladness." 



CHAPTER VII 

JESUS IN THE TEMPLE 

Every year wdien springtime came all the people 
in the village and in the countrv ri.iund about used 
to go up to worship God in his beautiful temple 
at Jerusalem. It was a great honor to l)e al- 
lowed to go then to God's house, and all lit- 
tle children looked forward eagerly to the time 
when they should be twelve years old, for until 
they were twelve thev \\ere not allowed to go. 

Joseph and ]\Iarv went every ^■ear with the 
rest of the people, but they were obliged to le.ave 
Jesus behind until he was twelve }'ears old, and 
then on that happy day thev all set out together. 

All the village people, their neighbors and 
friends, would be going too, so it was quite a big 
company that set out. The journey was a long- 
one, and they were obliged to take food to eat on 
the way, and something to sleep on at night, and 
every one was very busy and very happy. But 
perhaps the happiest of all was Jesus, for now 
at last he was going to his Father's house, lie 
had only been there once before when he was a 
very little baby, so it was all new and wonderful 
to him now. It made him feel so close to his 
Father in heaven, and made him think too of the 
work which his Father had sent him to do. 

When the time came to start for home again, 
Joseph and Mary went with the rest of the vil- 
lage people. Jesus was not with them, but that 
did not trouble them, for they thought that he 
would be with the other boys, and they never 
even looked for him. He never gave them any 
trouble, but was always there when they wanted 
him. So they journeyed on for a wdiole day, and 
only when it began to get dark and it was time to 
go to rest and sleep, they began to miss him. 
Where could he be? They looked carefully 
among the people and asked every one about him, 



but no one had seen bim since they left Jerusa- 
lem. 

ddien po(ir Mary was terribly troubled. She 
Cduld nut lliink what b.ad h;ippened to her boy. 
l'erba[)s some e\dl hail befallen him, and she 
would remember how wicked King Herod had 
tried to kill him when he was a baby. 

r.ack she went to Jerusalem in great haste, and 
Jnseph went with her. For three weary days 
the\' searched all through the town but could not 
find the boy. At last they wandered back to the 
temple hoping he might still be there, and there 
inileed tlicy found him. 

Jesus had been thinking a great deal about his 
Father's work, and wishing to know more about 
it, and in the temple there were wise men who 
conlil answer bis Cjuestions and teach him many 
tbiirgs. 

So wdien Mary and Joseph fotmd him, he was 
sitting ;imong these learned men, listening to 
them and asking such wise questions that they 
were all astonished. They could scarcely believe 
that a boy only twehx }'ears old could know so 
nuicli. 

Now Mary had almost forgotten that Jesus 
had been sent into the world to do a great work. 
She had almost forgotten that, tliough he was 
her child, he was (iod's Son too. She only 
thought how miserable she had been those three 
days when she had lost him, and how this was 
the first time he bad ever made her imhappy. 

\^ery sorrowfidlv site asked him why he had 
grieved her, wh}- he had stayed behind and made 
her so anxious and trouljled. 

Tesus answered her very gently. He thoiigbt 
she would have known that he must think about 
God's work, and surely she should have looked 
for bim first of all in his Father's house, for was 
he not ( 'lod's Son ? 

Yes, he was iMary's Son but he was God's Son 
too. That she must never forget. But when he 
had gently reminded her of this, he obediently 
went home with her. It was not time j'et to be- 
gin God's work in saving the world. So he 
helped her in the home and worked in the ear- 
[)cnter's shop as he bad done before, waiting pa- 
tiently till the time should come wdien he eould 
begin the work which God bad sent him to do. 



CHAPTltR VTII 

THE li.M'TISM OF JESUS 

So the time came when Jesus was grown into a 
man, and must leave the home at Nazareth and 
begin his blather's work. His mother would miss 
him sorely in that little home, but she knew that 



178 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



there was much for him to do, and that all the 
people in the world needed his help. 

Now the first thing that Jesus did when he left 
his home at Nazareth, was to go to the river 
Jordan to be baptized. 

You know how little babies are baptized, do 
you not? Well, just as the water with wdiich the 
minister or priest baptizes the little child, washes 
away anything that is not quite clean, so at the 
same time, though we cannot see it, the baby s 
little soul is washeil white and clean and no 
marks of sin are left upon it. 

The baptism of Jesus was different froin this. 

In those days there were many people coming 
to be baptized by one of God's servants called 
John. He was a very great and good man and 
"he had spent his wdiole life trying to teach peo- 
ple about the King and to prepare them for his 
coming. 

When the people were sorry for their sins and 
wanted to live better lives, he baptized them, to 
show that they were really sorry. The soul of 
Jesus was pure and white, and he had no sins to 
be sorrv for, but he too went to be baptized with 
water. 

When John saw Jesus standing by the river 
side, he knew at once that this was the King, 
God's own Son, whom he had been longing to 
see. It did not seem right that he, the humble 
servant, should baptize the Master, but Jesus 
told him that he wished it, and that was enough. 

So John did as he was told and baptized Jesus 
just as he had done to poor people who were 
so sorrv for their sins, and who wdshed to be 
washed clean. 

But after the baptism of Jesus a strange thing 
happened. The gates of heaven opened and God's 
Holy Spirit came down like a dove and rested 
upon Jesus. And then a voice was heard from 
heaven, God's voice, saying, "This is my beloved 
Son in. whom I am well pleased." 

So with this beautiful message from his Father, 
Jesus began his work. He knew how hard that 
work would be. He knew the pain and suf- 
fering he would have to bear. But he knew 
too that his Father was watching over him and 
would always help and comfort him. 



CHAPTER IX 

now JESUS WAS TEMPTEn 

It was not ver)- long before Jesus came to a dif- 
ficult part of his work. Do you know what temp- 
tation means? How, when you want a thing 
wdiich you know you ought not to touch, some- 
thing whispers in your heart, "Take it." Or 



when you have done something naughty the same 
voice wdll whisper sometimes, "Say you did not 
do it." That is temptation, the voice of the 
wicked spirit, the devil, who loves to make people 
do bad things and say what is not true. He tried 
his very best to tempt Jesus, just as he still tries 
to tempt you. 

For forty long days Jesus was in the wilder- 
ness, a great wdld lonely place where there was 
nothing to eat or drink and where there were 
only wild beasts prowling around. 

And wdien Jesus was beginning to be very hun- 
gry, the devil, whose name is Satan, came to him 
and said: "If thou art really the Son of God, as 
thou sayest thou art, then thou canst do anything. 
W'hy then dost thou not turn these stones into 
bread ?" 

But Jesus knew that the devil wanted him to 
forget that he had a loving Father who was 
watching over him and wdio would give him 
bread all in good time, so he answered very 
wisely, and the devil was silent for a while. 

Then Satan tried another plan. He took Jesus 
up to one of the highest points on the roof of the 
beautiful temple and said to him: "If thou art 
really the Son of God, prove it by throwing thy- 
self down, for has not God written a promise 
that his angels will take care of thee, so that 
nothing can hurt thee?" 

The devil thought that Jesus would certainly 
like to show that he was really God's Son. But 
Jesus was so sure that God was his Father, that 
he did not need to prove it or to try if the angels 
would take care of him, and he only said to 
Satan : "It is written again, Thou shalt not tempt 
the Lord thy God." 

But Satan thought he would try once more, so 
this time he led Jesus up into a very high moun- 
tain and showed him all the beautiful world lying 
below, all the splendid palaces, the riches and 
glory of it. It was the world Jesus had come to 
try to save, the people he wanted to help. 

"All this belongs to me now," said the devil, 
"but I wdll give it to thee, if thou wilt only fall 
down and worship me." 

But Jesus would not do what was wrong. He 
knew God's plan was best, and he said to Satan: 
"Get thee hence, Satan, for it is written, Thou 
shalt worship the Lord thy God and him only 
shalt thou serve." 

Then the devil saw that it was no use, that 
Jesus was stronger than he was, so he went away 
and left him. 

Jesus must have been very weary then. It is 
always hard to fight against temptation. Then 
too he was hungry, for he had had nothing to eat 
for a very long time. But God had not forgotten 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



179 



him. As soon as Satan, the evil S[)irit, had £;oue 
away, the holy angels came down and hrought 
him rest and comfort. There was no need now 
to turn stones into bread, for the angels bronght 
him food and waited on him and gave him all 
that he wanted, just as his Father had promised 
they should do. 

CFIAPTER X 

THE W.VTER TURNED INTO WINE 

Do you remember how Satan said to Jesus tliat if 
he was the Son of God, lie could do anything, 
even change stones into bread? This was quite 
true. God, who made the world and all the peo- 
ple and things in it, can do whatever he wills. 
So Jesus, the Son of God, when he was on earth 
could do wonderful things that no one else was 
able to do. He could make blind people see, he 
could make sick people well, he could even bring 
dead people back to life again. There was noth- 
ing that Jesus could not do. These wonderful 
things he did were called miracles, and now I 
will tell vou about the first miracle Jesus did. 

There were some people whom Jesus knew 
who were having a wedding feast, and Jesus and 
his friends, and his mother, were all invited to 
the supper. Jesus always liked to see people 
happv, so he went with the rest, but none of the 
other guests knew that a King was there. 

Evervthing went happily for a while. The 
people feasted and made merry, but the servants 
began to look troubled and to whisper to one 
another, and Jesus's mother saw that soiuething 
was wrong. She asked one of the servants what 
was the matter, and when she knew she came to 
Jesus and in a low voice told him that there was 
no more wine and the guests were waiting for it, 
and if they could not get any the whole feast 
would be spoiled. Mary felt sure that somehow 
Jesus would know what to do and that he would 
certainly help. So she told the troubled servants 
who stood near that whatever Jesus ordered 
them to do they must do it at once. 

Close to where they stood there were six great 
stone jars in which water was kept. Jesus pointed 
to them and said, "Fill the water-pots with 
water," and the servants quickly filled them up to 
the brim with clear, cold water. Then when this 
was done Jesus told them to draw the water out 
and carry it to the guests. 

But as the servants did this, how surprised and 
delighted they were to find it was wine now that 
came out of the jars and not water at all. They 
took it to the chief man who sat at the head of 
the table, and he asked at once why they had not 
brought this good wine to him at the beginning 



of the feast, instead of keeping it until the end. 
He did not know that Jesus had turned the water 
into wine, but the servants knew, and they won- 
dered who this man could be who had power to 
do such a wonderful thing. 

That same wonderful power it is that still 
makes the grape \'ine grow, and the little .green 
sour grapes swell into the great sweet purple 
bunches, that are pressed out to make wine. It 
is God's mighty power that makes the little seed 
planted in the earth grow into a beautiful flower, 
so we too may still see miracles, if we look for 
them, every day, 

CHAPTER XI 

THE CHOOSING OF THE TWELVE FRIENDS 

As Jesus went about from village to village, 
teaching the people about (^iod, tliere were manv 
who listened to him, and he began to choose some 
men to be his friends and companions. He 
wislied to teach these men many things which 
thc\- would never forget, so that afterward they 
might teach otlier people. 

Jesus did not choose great and learned men to 
be his followers. He did not mind if they were 
simple and poor, for he could see deep down into 
men's hearts and knew who were loving and 
kind, true and faithful, and able to Iielp him in 
his work. 

t.)ne day, when he was walking bv the seaside, 
a great crowd of people began to gather round 
him. They wanted to hear more of the wonder- 
ful kind words he spoke, and so they pressed 
closer and closer to him, until those at the back 
could not hear him speak at all. 

\\dien Jesus saw this he turned and looked out 
on to the lake, wdiere there were some fishing- 
boats lying close to the shore. He beckoned to 
the fishermen who were washing their nets, and 
asked one of them to take him in the boat and 
push oiT a little way from the land. When the 
fisherman, whose name was Peter, had done this, 
Jesus sat there in the boat and spoke to the peo- 
ple who crowded down to the water's edge. Now 
they could all hear his kind gracious words, and 
they listened eagerly to all he said. 

Then when he had finished teaching the people, 
he turned to Peter and told him to let down his 
net into the water and begin fishing. 

Peter looked surprised when Jesus told him to 
do this. The time for catching fish was at night, 
and not in the davtime, and besides thcv had been 
fishing all night and not a single fish had they 
caught. But Peter felt he must obey this won- 
derful teacher, and so he said : "Master, we have 
toiled ali night and have caught nothing; never- 



180 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



theless, when thou dost bid me, I will let down 
the net." 

And when he had thrown the net into the sea, 
and with the help of his partner in another lioat 
had begun to draw it in again, it was so full of 
fish that it almost broke. They called quickly 
to the other fishermen, wdio came at once to 
help them, and there were so many fish that they 
filled all the boats with more than they could 
hold. 

Now wdien Peter saw this he knelt down at 
Tesus's feet, just as the shepherds and wise men 
had done, and worshiped him. And the other 
fishermen came, too, for they wished to serve 
this Master who they knew must be God's Son. 
They thought no more of their boats and their 
nets, their home and their frien.ds. They left 
everything that they might be wiih Jesus. That 
was how four of Jesus's friends were chosen. 
Their names were Peter, Andrew, James, and 
John. There were eight other men chosen as 
well, and we call them the twelve apostles or 
messengers of Jesus. We use the word "Saint ' 
before their names now to slmw wdiat good men 
they were. They all loved and served their Mas- 
ter well and faithfully, all except one, called 
Judas, whom you will hear about later on. He 
listened to Satan's temptations and became an 
enemy of Jesus instead of a faithful friend. 



CHAPTER XII 

THE PROUD RICH MAN AND THE POOR 
SORROWFUL WOMAN 

Very soon more and more people heard of the 
new teacher who had come, and they wondered 
who he was. There was a certain rich man, who 
thought he would like to see this teacher, and so 
he in\-ited Jesus to supper at his house. Now 
this rich man was proud, and thought he was 
doing a very kind thing to ask a poor man like 
Jesus to come to supper. He did not really love 
Jesus, or he would have known that though he 
seemed like a poor man he was really a King. 

So when Tesus came into the house the proud 
rich man did not trouble to come and meet him 
with a kiss of welcome. He did not even order 
the servants to pour cold water over Jesus's feet. 
He did nothing to honor him or make him com- 
fortable. 

But as supper was going on, some one came 
humbly stealing in at the open door to where 
Jesus sat. It was a poor woman whose name was 
Marv IMagdalene. She was not a good woman. 
She had done many wrong things, and when peo- 
ple passed her they drew aside and would not 



touch her. They said, "She is a bad woman." 
Mary Magdalene knew herself how bad she had 
been. But ever since she had seen Jesus and lis- 
tened to his words she was so very very sorry 
that she longed to be good again. 

She was so sorry now, as she stood quietly be- 
hind Jesus, that the tears began to run down her 
cheeks, and to fall in great drops upon the feet 
of Jesus. When she saw this she stooped down 
quickly and wiped the tears away with her long 
hair. And with her face close to those dear feet 
she kissed them over and over again. She had 
brought with her an alabaster box filled with 
precious ointment, and she now broke the box 
and poured the sweet scent on Jesus's feet. 

But the rich man was very angry when he saw 
her doing that. 

"She is a bad woman," he thought. "How can 
[esus allow such a woman to touch him? He 
cannot know how bad she is." 

Jesus knew exactly what the rich man was 
thinking. He always knew what people thought 
in their hearts, even if they did not speak it out 
loud. So now he turned to the rich man and 
began to tell him a story. 

He said: "There was once a man who lent 
money to two other men. To one man he lent 
five hundred pennies, and to the other only fifty 
pennies. Afterward when he knew how poor the 
men were, he said he would forgive them all that 
they owed him, and they need not pay back the 
money at all. 

"Tell me, now," said Jesus, "which of the two 
men would love him most." 

"I suppose the one who was forgiven most," 
said the rich man, wondering what Jesus meant 
by telling him that story. 

"Thou art quite right," said Jesus, "and it is 
exactly like thee and this poor woman. She has 
much to be forgiven, and so she loves me much ; . 
thou thinkest thou art so good that thou hast 
nothing to be forgiven, and so thou lovest but lit- 
tle. When I came in, thou gavest me no kiss of 
welcome, but this woman has kissed my feet. 
Thou gavest me no water to cool my feet, but she 
has washed them with her tears and wiped them 
with her hair. Thou didst not pour ointment on 
my head, but she has poured precious ointment 
on my feet. So her sins which are many are for- 
given because she loves me so much and is so 
sorry. But thou thinkest there is little for me to 
forgive and nothing for thee to be sorry for, be- 
cause thou lovest me so little." Then Jesus 
turned to the woman and said, "Thy sins are for- 
given." 

The poor woman had loved Jesus before this, 
but she loved him more than ever now. He had 




o 
2 



■j-j 



> 
-I 






182 



STORIES FROM THK LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



forgiven all the bad things she had done, and 
now she would always try to he good. 

Jesus could not help the rich man ; he only 
helps those who are very very sorry for the 
wrong things they have done, and for the good 
things they have left undone, and who love him 
with all their hearts. 

CH-\PTER XIII 

THE STOR.M ON TIIK LAKE 

Now the people in the villages and all the coun- 
tryside began to talk a great deal about this won- 
derful teacher who spoke to them as never man 
had spoken before. It was said too that his touch 
made sick people well, so wherever he went they 
brought out tlnjse who were ill or suffering that 
he might take their pain away. Oh, how glad 
those poor sick people would be to see his kind 
face Iiending over them, to feel his tender touch 
and hear his gentle voice. And then how thank- 
ful they were when the pain :ind suffering left 
them at that touch, and they felt quite well and 
strong again. There were lame people wdio came 
to him, and he made them able to walk. There 
were poor blind men who lived always in the 
dark, and Jesus opened their e\'es, and they could 
see the blue sky, the trees, and the flowers, and 
best of all, his face. 

But Jesus did not make only men's bodies well. 
Fie saw that their souls needed his help too, that 
they might learn how to be good and true, kind 
and gentle. So he taught them many things and 
tried to make them understand how much God 
loved them. 

Wdien men thought of God they were afraid, 
because he seemed to them some one wdio was 
always angry with wicked people and ready to 
punish them. But Jesus taught them to think of 
God as a loving Father, and to call him in their 
prayer, "Our Father which art in heaven." Some 
day, if you have not already done so, you will 
learn the whole of that beautiful prayer, and 
many other words \\diich Jesus spoke. 

Now one day when Jesus had been teaching 
the crowds for a b-ing time, he sent the people 
away and set sail in a fishing-boat to cross to the 
other side of the lake. 

It was quite calm when the boat started, but it 
had gone only a little way when a great storm 
came sweeping down. The wind howled and the 
waves began to dash over the sides of the little 
I)oat until it was almost filled with water. The 
fishermen friends were \\'ith Jesus, and they were 
terribly frightened. But all the time Jesus lay 
fast asleep on a pillow in the back part of the 
boat. 



At last the men felt so sure that they would 
all be lost that they came to Jesus and woke 
him up, crying, "Master, carest thou not that we 
perish ?" 

Jesus arose at once and looked out on the wild 
wa\-es and then at the frightened faces of his 
followers. He asked them why they were afraid 
when he was with them. Did they not know that 
surely he would take care of them? Then he 
turned again to the stormy waves and fierce blus- 
tering wind that was screaming round them, and 
said quietly, "Peace, be still." 

The wind and the stormy waves knew the voice 
of their Master, and in a moment they grew still 
and (|uiet. The fierce wind died away, the waves 
sank back, and there was a great calm. 

Never had the fishermen seen anything so 
strange, they could scarcely believe they were 
indeed safe and that Jesus by a word had quieted 
the terrilde storm. And yet if they had but 
thought that he was the Son of God they would 
have known that everything must obey his voice. 
They need never have been frightened when Jesus 
was with them, for he always takes care of his 
children. No matter how the storm rages, no 
matter how frightening the dark wild night may 
look, when Jesus is close to us nothing can hurt 
us. Everything grows quiet at the sound of his 
voice when he says, "Peace, be still." 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE ruler's little DAUGHTER 

Later on when Jesus returned across the lake 
in the fishing-boat with his disciples, there was a 
crowd of people waiting on the shore to welcome 
him back. They needed him for so many things, 
and they were all eager for his return. 

But there was one man who wanted Jesus more 
than all the rest. He was a rich man, a great 
ruler in the city, but he stood there in his fine 
clothes among all the poor people waiting for 
Jesus to come. 

Fie had one little daughter, this rich man, and 
she was more precious to him than all his riches. 
One day she had fallen ill, and then she grew 
worse and worse, and the doctors could not make 
her better. They feared that she would die. 
Then the poor father remembered how he had 
heard of a wonderful man called Jesus, who 
could cure any one with a touch of his hand. 
People said this man was not far off, and indeed, 
was even now returning in a boat across the lake. 
So the ruler, whose name was Jairus, hurried 
down to the shore and waited there, eagerly 
watching the boat as it came nearer and nearer. 



STORIES FROM THE LIEK OE JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



183 



And the moment Jesus had landed and stood 
on the shore, the ruler ran to him and knelt down 
at his feet and begged for help. "My little 
daughter is so ill that we fear she will die." he 
cried. "Wilt thou come and la\- thv hand upon 
her and make her well ?" Jesus never turned 
away from any one who was sorrowful and 
needed his help. He bent down and gentlv raised 
the poor father to his feet and set out at once to 
go with him to his house, the crowd all following 
behind. 

But before thev had gone very far. a servant 
came to meet them and brought the sad news that 
the little girl was dead. It was no use bringing 
Jesus any farther, he said, for now it was too 
iate. 

Then Jesus turned quickly to the poor father 
and said, "Be not afraid, only trust me." And 
there was something in Jesus's face that com- 
forted the ruler and gave him hope, and so they 
went on together. 

At last they came to the ruler's house, but 
Jesus would not allow the people to follow 
him. He took in only three of his disciple 
friends. 

Every one inside was weeping and making a 
great noise to show how sorry they were that the 
child was dead, but Jesus hushed them and told 
them to be quiet. "The little maid is not dead, 
she is asleep," he said. 

This made the people very angry and scornful, 
for they knew she was dead. They did not know 
that what we call death God only calls a sleep, 
and that it \yas as easy for God's Son to Ijring 
the little girl back to life as it was for him to 
wake a child wdio had fallen asleep. 

Then Jesus ordered them all to go out of the 
room, and only allowed the father and mother to 
stay behind with him and his disciples. The 
child lay there still and wdiite on her little bed, 
and Jesus went and bent tenderly over her and 
took one of her little cold hands in his. "I^ittle 
maid, I say unto thee, arise," he said. No, it 
was not too late, it is never too late for Jesus to 
help. Life came back to the child as she lay 
there, and presently she opened her eyes and sat 
up. 

It seemed almost too good to be true ; the father 
and mother could scarcely believe they had their 
child back again. But when Jesus quietly re- 
minded them that they should give her something 
to eat, they began to feel sure that their little 
daughter was going to stay with them, and grow 
well and strong once more. 

So Jesus passed on, leaving joy and gladness 
in that house which had lately been so full of 
sorrow. 



CHAPTER XV 

now JESUS FEU THE IIUN'CRY PEOPLE 

Wherever Jesus went now the people crowded 
out to meet him. The news of the wonderful 
things he did had spread round all the country- 
side. Mothers who had sick children brought 
their little ones to be made well. The blind peo- 
ple found their wa)- to the roads fjy wdiich he 
would pass, and cried to him to help them. The 
people who were so ill that they could not walk 
were carried out on their beds that Jesus might 
come near them and heal them. 

But not onI\- the sick and the sorrowful came 
in that crowd ; many wanted to be near Jesus just 
to hear the wonderful words he spoke and to 
learn from him how to be good and happy. 

Sometimes Jesus was very tired with all his 
work, and he would go away into some lonely 
place to rest among the hills, far away from any 
village or town. But even there the people would 
sometimes follow him if they knew where he 
was. 

Now once it happened that Jesus had gone to a 
very lonely far-away place to rest for a while, 
and only his disciple friends were with him. But 
the people had guessed where he was going, and 
they walked a long, long way until they found 
him, up among the hills. 

Jesus was never too tired to help any one who 
needed him, and wdien he saw these poor people 
he was very sorry for them. They had walked 
such a long wa\- to find him, some of them had 
even carried sick friends who could not walk. 
There were women and little children among 
them too, all weary and footsore and hungry. 

First of all, with his kind gentle touch Jesus 
healed the sick people, and then spoke comforting 
words to them all. But it was getting late, and it 
would soon be dark. The disciple friends began 
to wish that the people would go away. 

"Master," they said to Jesus, "send the multi- 
tude away that they may go into the towns and 
country round about and buy food, and find lodg- 
ings, for we are here in a desert place." 

But as Jesus looked at those poor tired faces 
and thought of the long walk they would have to 
take before they could reach any place where 
they could buy food, he said, "They need not go 
away, give them food to eat here." 

The disciples looked at Jesus in great surprise. 
How could they feed all these people? Why, it 
would take hundreds of loaves of bread to give 
them each even a tiny piecQ. 

"How many loa\'es have ye?" asked Jesus. 
Then one of the disciples answered : "There is a 
boy here who has five barley loaves and two small 



184 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



fishes, but what is the use of these among so 
many people ?" 

He thought that Jesus would see how uiipossi- 
ble it was to think of feeding the crowd. But^he 
had not yet learned that his Master was theSon 
of God who made the corn to grow in the fields 
and gave every one bread to eat day by day. 

It\vas a beautiful grassy place where the peo- 
ple stood listening to Jesus, and he told the dis- 
ciples to make the people sit down in rows. The 
disciples did as they were told, wondering wdiat 
would happen next. 

Then Jesus took the loaf of bread from the 
boy who knelt before him, and he looked up to 
heaven and asked God to bless the bread. After 
that he broke it into pieces and gave it to the 
disciples to give to the people who were sitting 
around on the grass waiting. One by one Jesus 
took the five loaves and the two small fishes, but 
the 'more he gave away the more there was to 
give. His hands were never empty, and there 
was more than enough for every one. 

Now when all the people had eaten as much as 
they wanted, Jesus told the disciples to pick up 
the pieces that had fallen on the grass, so that 
none of the bread might be wasted. And when 
they had done this, the pieces alone filled twelve 
large baskets. 

How surprised that little lioy must have l)een 
as he helped to pick up the pieces that were over. 
He had only given his five loaves and tw'O small 
fishes. And yet when Jesus had held them in his 
hands they were enough to feed all that great 
crowd of people and leave twelve basketfuls over. 
And the people too began to wonder how such 
a strange thing could have happened. They grew 
so excited that they wanted to take Jesus away 
and make him their King. But that was not 
God's plan, so Jesus quietly told them to leave 
him and go back to their homes. They did not 
know that he was a King already, a far greater 
King than any on earth, for he was the King of 
heaven. 

CHAPTER XVI 

THE HE.\LING OF THE TEX LEPERS 

There was one terrible kind of sickness which 
Jesus w'as often asked to help, but which no one 
else could ever cure. This sickness was called 
leprosy, and the people who had it were called 
lepers. 

No one would ever come near a leper or touch 
him. He was obliged to live apart from other 
people, and if he met any one in the road, he had 
to go aside out of the' way and to cry, ''Unclean, 
unclean." 

So you can think how terrible this sickness was, 



and how miserable the poor people were who 
were lepers. But when Jesus came he brought 
hope even to these miserable people. 

It was said that the great healer, who went 
about helping people, could cure even this terrible 
illness. And wdien the lepers heard that, they be- 
gan to steal out and watch for his coming, won- 
dering if such good news could really be true. 

And one day as Jesus passed along on his way 
through a village, he saw ten of these poor lepers 
standing afar off, waiting and watching for him. 

Thev knew this must be Jesus, and so- instead 
of calling out the old sad words, "LTnclean, un- 
clean," a great pitiful cry burst from their lips, 
"Jesus, Master, help us." 

lesus was very sorry for these poor men, and 
he stopped at once to help them. 

It was the law then that if a leper ever got well 
he should go to a priest, one of God's servants, 
and show himself so that people might be quite 
sure that the terrible illness was gone. Then he 
was allowed to live among other people again. 

So when Jesus said to the lepers, "Go, show 
vourselves to the priest," they knew it meant that 
Jesus would make them well. 

And as they went to find a priest, as Jesus bade 
them, the illness left them and they felt they were 
well and strong and clean again. 

Would you not have thought that they would 
have come hurrying back to find Jesus and to 
thank him? Only one of these lepers did that, 
and he was a stranger, belonging to a different 
country. The other men went on, but this stran- 
ger turned back and never rested till he had 
found Jesus. There, with a heart full of grati- 
tude, he knelt at Jesus's feet, with his head bowed 
down to the ground, and thanked the Master for 
wdiat he had done for him. 

"Were there not ten men healed?" asked Jesus, 
"but where are the nine ?" 

Ah I they had been very anxious to see Jesus, 
and had cried loudly for his help, but now that 
they were strong and well they forgot to thank 
him who had done this for them. 

Then Jesus bent over the one grateful man 
wdio knelt at his feet, and bade him arise. The 
other men had strong and healthy bodies now, 
l>ut this stranger had something far better as 
well — a grateful soul, made pure and strong by 
Jesus's touch. 

CHAPTER XVII 
the story of the kind stranger 

Jesus had many things to teach the people in this 
worlrl, and sometimes he taught them in the way 
that children loved best. He told them stories. 
But the stories he told were not just co-mmon 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



185 



stories. Each one of them had a special meaning 
and a special lesson hidden away inside it. 

Have you ever seen a bee soi"g from flower 
to flower gathermg honey? It never stops to look 
at the beautiful colored petals. It goes straight 
into the heart of the flower and there it finds the 
honey deep inside. So it is with those stories, or 
parables as they are called, which Jesus told the 
people. They are like beautiful flowers, and hid- 
den away at their heart is the precious lesson, 
which you must look for, as the bee looks for 
honey. 

Now there were some clever people who did 
not care to listen to Jesus because they thought 
they knew more than he did. Tiiey were angry 
with him because he taught lessons thev did not 
like, and because he could do wonderful things 
which they could not do. These men would come 
sometimes and ask Jesus diflicult questions, al- 
ways hoping that he would not be able to answer 
them, and so show that he was wrong and they 
were right. 

One day one of these clever men came witli a 
very difficult question. He a.sked Jesus what he 
should do, so that when he died he might go to 
heaven and live always with God. 

Jesus told him at once that there were two 
things he must do. One was to lo\'e (jod with 
all his heart, and the other was to love and be 
kind to his neighbor. 

"But who is my neighbor that I must love?" 
asked the man. 

Then Jesus told this story to show the man 
who his neighbor was. 

There was once a man who set out on a jour- 
ney all by himself. It was a lonely road by which 
he had to travel, and it led through rough dan- 
gerous places where there were robbers lurking, 
ready to pounce down on anj- one who passed by. 

So when the lonely traveler came along this 
road the robbers quickly spied him, and -in a mo- 
ment they rushed out and seized him. They took 
all his money away and even some of his clothes, 
and then they beat him and hurt him so badly 
that they half killed him. The cruel robbers did 
not care at all what became of the poor man they 
had robbed, but they left him there lying in the 
road too much hurt to move or to help himself. 

Not very long afterward a priest, one of God's 
servants, came along the road, and saw the poor 
hurt man lying so helpless there. 

But as soon as he caught sight of him, he 
quickly looked the other way and hurried past as 
fast as he could on the other side of the road. 
The robbers might be lurking close at hand, he 
thought, and if he stopped to help the man they 
might rob him too. No, it was much safer just 



to think of himself and leave llie man alone. So 
he hurried on as fast as he could. 

The poor traveler la)- there just as the robbers 
had left him, suffering and unable to move, and 
by and by another man came in sight along the 
winding road. This was another of God's ser- 
vants, but he, too, was afraid to stop and help 
the poor man. Lie did go over and look at him, 
but did not touch him, and decided that it was not 
his Inisincss to help hurt people who lay by the 
roarlside. So he too hurried on, just as the priest 
had done. 

Then some one else began to climb the moun- 
tain-road. It was a stranger who did not belong 
to that country at all. He was riding along on 
an ass, anxious, too, to pass quickly over this 
dangerous road. But when he saw the poor trav- 
eler lying there so still and helpless, he stopped 
at once. He did not care if the robbers were 
close at hand, he only thought that of course he 
must help the suffering man at once. Very gently 
he touched him, and bound up the hurt places, 
and did all he could to make the pain less. Then 
very tenderl\' he stooped down and lifted the 
poor man in his arms and carried him over to 
where the ass was standing, and placed him on 
its back. 

So, carefullv leading the ass over the rough 
road, he took the poor man to the nearest village 
where there was an inn for travelers. There he 
laid him on a bed and watched by his bedside all 
night. And when morning came and he was 
obliged to travel on, he told the people of the inn 
to take great care of the hurt man, and gave them 
money to pay for an)-thing he might want. 

"Now," said Jesus to the learned man who had 
tried to puzzle him, "which of those three men 
was neighbor to the poor hurt man?" 

"The one who was kind to him and helped 
him," was of course the answer. 

"Then," said Jesus, "learn to be as kind and 
helpful as he was." 

Jesus meant to teach us that every one whom 
we can help is our neighbor, and that we must be 
kind and loving to every one. We cannot always 
do big things to help people as the kind stranger 
did, but there are always little things we can do 
every day, kind words we can say and even kind 
smiles we can give. So we shall little by little 
learn the lesson Jesus taught — that we are to 
love God and to love and help our neighbor too. 

CHAPTER XYIII 

THE STORY OF THE UNMERCIFUL SERV,\NT 

The disciple friends of Jesus asked their Master 
one day how often they must forgive people who 



186 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



had hurt them or done them wrong. Was it not 
enough to forgive them seven times? Peter asked. 
No, Jesus told them, that was not enough, they 
must go on forgiving without counting the times. 
Then seeing how surprised the disciples looked, 
Jesus told them a story to make them remember 
the lesson. He wished to teach them about for- 
giveness. 

There was once a king whose servants owed 
him a great deal of money. There was one ser- 
vant who owed him thousands of pounds. This 
was far more money than the servant was able 
to pay, so when he could not give back any of 
the money the king ordered him to be sold. And 
not only was the man to be sold, but his wife and 
his children too, so that the money should be paid 
back. 

When the servant heard what the king had or- 
dered, he went and fell down at the king's feet 
and begged him to wait a little. 

"Lord," he said, "have patience with me, and I 
will pay thee all." 

Then when the king saw how sorry and un- 
happy the servant was, he forgave him, and told 
him he need not pay back any of the money. 

But that same servant as he was going out met 
a fellow-servant who owed him a very little 
money. It was so very little compared to what 
he had owed the king, that it was scarcely worth 
remembering, but the cruel servant seized the 
other roughly and cried, "Pay me what thou 
owest me." 

Then the fellow-servant fell on his knees and 
cried, "Have patience with me, and I will pay 
thee all." 

But the cruel servant would not forgive him 
or wait for the money. Instead of that he had 
him shut up in prison and said that he should 
stay there until he had paid all the little money 
he owed. 

Now when the other servants saw what was 
done, and how cruel and unforgiving this man 
was, they went and told the king all about it. 

Then the king was very angry, and called that 
cruel servant and said to him: "O wicked ser- 
vant, did I not forgive thee that large sum of 
money, and shouldst thou not have forgiven thy 
fellow-servant when he owed thee only a little 
money?" 

And he ordered that the wicked servant should 
also be put into prison and kept there till he 
should pay all the money that he owed. 

"So," said Jesus, when he had finished this 
story, "this is what God will do to you if ye are 
cruel and unforgiving." 

God is like the king in the story. Every day 
there is so much for him to forgive— all the 



wrong things we do, and the angry words we say. 
We have only to tell him we are sorry and ask 
him to forgive us, and he always listens to our 
prayer. And yet how slow we are to forgive the 
people who have hurt us or done us any wrong. 
We are often very angry and want to hurt them 
back, instead of forgiving them. 

So Jesus wished to teach us to remember that 
God cannot forgive us if we are like that cruel 
servant. We must be kind to one another, ten- 
der-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God, 
for Jesus's sake, has forgiven us. 



CHAPTER XIX 

THE STORY OF THE GOOD SHEPHERD 

Among the crowds that came to Jesus to listen to 
his words, there were bad people as well as those 
who were good. There were people who had 
been foolish, and who had done many wicked 
things, but they were often just the ones who 
loved him most because he understood how sorry 
they were and taught them how to be good. 

Now some of the clever men you heard about, 
who thought themselves so much better and wiser 
than any one else, were very angry with Jesus 
because he made friends with these poor bad peo- 
ple. They said he should send such wicked people 
away and have nothing to do with them. 

But Jesus only looked with sorrowful eyes at 
these men who thought themselves so good, and 
told them this story to try to teach them a lesson. 
Out on the hills there was once a good kind 
shepherd who had a laige flock of sheep and 
lambs to look after. He was a very careful shep- 
herd, and each night when he led them home into 
the safe shelter of the fold he counted them one 
by one. This was to see if they were all there 
safely before he shut them up for the night. 
There were just a hundred sheep and lambs alto- 
gether, and he knew each one separately, so it 
was easy to count them. 

But one night, when it was growing dark and 
he had led the flock home as usual and counted 
them as they entered the fold, he found there 
were only ninety-nine, and one was missing. 

Where could the poor missing sheep be? The 
shepherd knew how dangerous it was for it to be 
wandering alone on the cold dark mountain-side. 
There were sharp thorn-bushes in which it might 
be caught, steep places down which it might fall. 
And worse than all, there were hungry wolves 
prowling about ready to snatch and carry off any- 
thing they could find. 

The night was dark, and a fierce tempest began 
to rage, but the good shepherd could not rest 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



187 



while one of his slieep was in cbncjer. Out into 
the wild night he went carrying a Lantern in his 
liand to search for the missing sheep. Lie did not 
mind tlic storm, though tlie wind howled round 
him and the rain heat on his face. The cruel 
thorns pierced his feet, and his hands were torn 
by the briers, but still he searched on. 

Then at last in the shelter of a rock he saw 
something white, and he gave a cry of joy,' for 
he knew it was his lost sheep. There lay the 
poor silly sheep huddled up close against the 
stone. It had wandered off from the rest of the 
flock, thinking it could take care of itself, but 
now it was so weary and wet, so hungry and 
frightened that it could only lie there trembling, 
too weak to stand. 

But the shepherd did not speak sharply to the 
foolish sheep. Lie knew just how tired and help- 
less it was. With tender gentle hands he lifted it 
and put it upon his shoulder, and carried it back 
over the rough steep mountain-side through the 
storm of rain and wind, until he brought it safely 
to the fold where it could rest warm and happy 
lonce more. 

Then the shepherd went gladly home and told 
•all his friends about the lost sheep, and said to 
them, "Be glad with me, for I have found my 
.sheep that was lost." 

This was the beautiful story that Jesus told, 
and in it was the lesson he wished to teach those 
proud men. 

He wanted to show them that he was like that 
good shepherd, that he loved all his people as the 
shepherd loved his sheep, even those that were 
foolish and did many wrong things and wandered 
far away from all that was good and safe and 
right. Still he loved them, and always longed to 
bring them safely back. It did not matter how 
far they had wandered or how bad they had been. 
If only thev were sorry and wanted to come back 
to him and be good he would help them, just as 
the shepherd carried home that poor tired-out 
sheep safelv on his shoulders. 

And then in the same way as the shepherd's 
■friends were glad with him when the sheep was 
■safe, so the angels in heaven would be glad when 
Jesus helped one of his poor sinful people to be 
;good, and brought him safely home at last. 



CHAPTER XX 

THE STORY OF THE W.^.STEFUL SON 

.Aftet; Jesus had told the people the story of the 
■good shepherd, he went on to tell them another 
story with another lesson in it. This was the 
story of the prodigal or wasteful son. 



The story began about a man who had two 
sons. The man had a -great deal of money and 
many servants, and the sons had everything they 
could want, so they ought to have been very 
happy. The eldest son was good anrl contented 
and helped his father, but the younger son was 
quite different. He didn't like work at all, and 
never wanted to do as he was told, and was as 
discontented as he could be. How nice it would 
be, he thought, to have plenty of money of his 
own that he could spend just as he liked. He 
wished, too, that he could go away from home 
where there would be nobody to tell him what he 
ought to do. 

So one day he went to his father and said to 
him : "Father, give me my share of money which 
I should have when thou art dead. I do not 
want to wait for it, I want it at once." 

The father felt very sorrowful when he heard 
these words, but he said nothing, and gave his 
son the money he had asked for. 

Now as soon as the son knew that he had 
money to spend, he made up his mind to leave 
home at once and go far away into another coun- 
try where he could enjoy himself and do exactly 
as he liked. 

At first, while his money lasted, everything 
went well. There were many people ready to 
make friends with him, and he had splendid 
feasts and all sorts of pleasures every day. 
\A'henever he saw anything he wanted he bought 
it, and, indeed, he did just exactly as he liked. 

But this did not last very long. "Very soon the 
money was all spent, for he had wasted it sadly. 
Then there were no more pleasures and no more 
feasts, and all the people who had pretended to 
be his friends left him. He was now so poor 
that he had no money even to buy dry bread. He 
tried to work, but the only work he could find 
was to go out into the fields to take care of the 
pigs. There, as he sat watching the pigs eating 
the dry shells of beans, he was so hungry that he 
wished he could share their food. And nobody 
gave him even a piece of bread. 

Then the boy began to see how foolish and 
wicked he had been. He thought of his kind old 
father who had never been harsh to him. He 
thought of the comfortable home where he had 
been so well cared for. Why, even the servants 
in his father's house were much better off now 
than he was. They always had plenty of food to 
eat and good warm clothes to wear. 

He looked down at his rags and at his thin, 
toil-worn hands, and he said to himself: "I will 
go back to my father and I will tell him how sorry 
I am, and ask him if he will let me be a servant 
in his house, for I am not fit to be called a son." 



)S8 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



So he set out on the long journey home, and 
he was \evy tired and footsore, and so dust)- and 
ragged that he looked like a beggar. 

At last he came within sight of home, and he 
thought no one would know him, but his father 
saw him coming a long way off. He had often 
looked out along that road hoping that his boy 
would come back, and the moment he saw that 
poor tired dusty-looking figure he knew at once 
that it was his son. He did not wait for the boy 
to come and tell him how sorry he was. Hurry- 
ing quickly out he ran to meet him before he 
could reach the house. The son felt almost 
ashamed to look up, but the father put his arms 
round him and kissed him and held him close. 

Then the son sobbed out all that he had meant 
to say. 

"O father," he cried, "I am so very very sorry. 
I have been such a bad son to thee. I have 
wasted all thy nionev and done so manv foolish 
wicked things that I am not fit to be called thy 
son." 

But the father never spoke one word of blame, 
he only held him closer axid told him how glad 
he was to welcome him home again. 

Then he led the tired ragged boy into the 
house, and told the servants to bring the best and 
richest clothes for him, and to make ready a 
splendid feast of welcome. "For this is the son 
I had lost," he said, "but now I have found him 
again." 

There is a beautiful meaning in this story, for 
Jesus meant to show us that God was like that 
kind forgiving father. Even when his children 
are bad and ungrateful and forget all about him, 
still he waits patiently on. He never stops lov- 
ing them and hoping that some day they will be 
sorry and come home to him. And when they 
are really sorry he forgives them and welcomes 
them, just as the kind patient father in the story 
welcomed his son as soon as he came to say how 
sorry and ashamed he was. 



CFIAPTER XXI 

THE PHARISEE .\ND THE PUBLICAN 

There was another story which Jesus told the 
people at that time. It was a story to teach us 
that God listens to the prayers of those who are 
sorry they have done wrong and ask his forgive- 
ness, but that he cannot listen to people wdio 
think themselves too good to need his help. 

Two men, Jesus said, went up one dav into the 
beautiful temple to pray to God. One was a rich 
man, dressed in splendid robes, one of those 
learned great men called Pharisees. The other 



was a very poor, very humble man, who Seemed 
almost ashamed to come into the beautiful tem- 
ple. He was one of those men called publicans, 
who were not very good men. 

The rich Pharisee walked in first. He held his 
head high and had a proud haughty look, for he 
thought there was no one quite as good as he 
was. There he stood where every one could see 
him as he began his prayer. "Lord," he said, "I 
thank thee I am so much better than other men." 

He did not think he had anything to be sorry 
for, he did not want God's help. He only went 
on telling God all the good things that he did 
every day. 

But the poor man, the publican, stood far off 
in a place where no one would notice him. He 
felt as if he scarcely dared to come into God's 
house at all. His head was bent down, and he 
would not even look up to heaven as he began 
his pra}'er to God. It was not a long prayer, 
such as the Pharisee had prayed. The only words 
that the poor sinful man said were, "God be 
mercifid to me a sinner." 

But God heard that sorrowful prayer. The 
kind Father in heaven listened to that poor sin- 
ful man. And because he was so sorry God for- 
g-ave him all the bad things he had done and sent 
him away happy and good. 

The rich learned Pharisee went out of the 
temple too, but he did not carry away God's par- 
don and a happy heart. He had asked for noth- 
ing, so God gave him nothing, and thus he missed 
the great gift of pardon and happiness which 
God had given to the poor man. 



CHAPTER XXII 
now JESUS loved little children 

When people have a great deal of work to do 
and are very busy, they do not always care to 
have little children near them. They have no 
time to talk to them or play with them, and so 
the children are told to run away and not be 
troublesome. 

But though Jesus had so much to do that he 
was often very tired, he never sent little children 
away from him. However weary he was he 
loved to have them near him, to feel their little 
arms round his neck, and to listen to all they had 
to say. 

It was no wonder that children loved to come 
to Jesus. He was so kind and gentle and under- 
stood so quickly. The very touch of his dear 
hands made them feel how much he loved them. 

There was one day when Jesus was very tired 
with all the work he had had to do, and the disciple 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LFl'TLE CHILDREN 



189 



friends were hoping that he woukl rest. But just 
then a httle erowd of people came toward them 
from the \-illage close h\-. Some of the women 
had heard that Jesus was there, and they had 
brought their children out hoiiing that he might 
perhaps put his hands on the little heads and 
bless them. They had heard that he loved chil- 
dren and was kind to them. 

But the disciple friends were angr>- when they 
saw the little ones. Their dear Master was tired 
and ought not to be trouliled with a crowd of 
tiresome children. 

"Take them away at once," they said to the 
mothers, "our Master is weary, and the children 
would oidy tire him." 

But Jesus held out his hands to the little ones 
and drew them close to him. Fie was not pleased 
with the disciples for trying to send them away. 
"SufTer the little children to come unto me," he 
said, and the children gladly came at the sound 
of that kind voice, and he lifted the babies in his 
arms, wdiile the bigger children stood close 
around his knees. \'erv gentlv he put his hands 
on the little heads, one b\- ime, and blessed them, 
while they, looking up into his kind face, loved 
him wdth all tlieir hearts. 

Flow good it must have been to be so near 
Jesus, to hear his voice ami feel his touch. AVhat 
happy children those were who could look into 
his face and feel his arms around them. But 
though we cannot, like them, see him with our 
eyes, we knriw that he lo\-es little chiMren now 
just as much as he did then. 

"There's a Friend for little children 
Abo\'e the bright blue sky, 
A Friend who never changeth, 
Whose love can never die." 

Jesus is alwa}'S near us, and sees us though we 
cannot see him. It makes him glarl when chil- 
dren love him and try to please him, and those 
words he spoke of the children long ago he 
speaks to all to-day: "Suffer little children to 
come unto me." 

CHAPTER XXIII 

THE LITTLE HOME AT BETHANY 

Jesus, as he went about teaching and helping 
people, seldom knew where he would rest at 
night, for he had no home. Just as when he was 
a little baby, he had no splenrlid palace, but was 
born in a poor stable anrl lairl on a bed of hay, 
so all through his life he was always poor though 
he was a King. He knew, just as poor people 
know, what it meant to be hungry and homeless. 
Even the birds, watched over and cared for by 



God, bad warm little nests to shelter in. The 
foxes on the hillside harl holes into which they 
cotdd creep and keep cozy ;uid warm. But Jesus, 
the Iving of hea\'en, ( i(.)d's own dear Son, had 
nowhere to rest his hetid. 

There was one little home that Jesus loved to 
visit. It was in the village of Bethan}-, not very 
far from the great city of Jerusalem. Two sis- 
ters, whiise names were Mary and iMartha, lived 
there with their brother Lazarus. 

The brother and sisters loved Jesus flearly, and 
it was a happy day for them when lie climbed up 
the steep road that led to the little village, and 
came to their house to rest. There was always a 
welcome waiting for him, and loving hands ready 
to serve him. 

The two sisters were not at all alike though 
tliev botli loved Jesus so very much. Mary was 
quiet and thoughtful and loved to sit at the Mas- 
ter's feet and listen to his words. Martha was a 
verv l.ius\- person wdio seldom sat still, but bustled 
about anxious to make everything comfortable 
for Jesus. She would bring cool water to bathe 
his tired feet, and make ready the best food for 
the Master's meal. She so dearly loved to do 
tilings for him. 

Now once when fesus was resting in the little 
home, iMartha was busy as usual preparing the 
food, very anxious to make him comfortable. 
There was a great deal to do, and she needed 
Mar_\-'s help. It vexed her to see her sister sit- 
ting listening to Jesus. It was idle, she thought, 
to sit there and not help with the work. 

So Martha came to Jesus and said to him, 
"Lord, dost thou not care that my sister has left 
me to serve alone? Bid her therefore that she 
help me." 

But Jesus knew how much Mary loved him, 
and that to listen to his words was even better 
than serving. So he answered Martha gently 
and told her that Mary's way was best. He did 
not mean to blame Martha for being so anxious 
and busy, but he wantefl to show her that to lis- 
ten to his words and try to learn the lessons he 
taught pleased him best of all. 

That was a very happy little home at Bethany 
until one sad day wlien the brother Lazarus fell 
ill. Jesus was far away at the time, but the sis- 
ters sent a messenger to him as f|uicklv as they 
could, to tell him how ill their brother was. They 
did not ask Jesus to come at once, they only sent 
the message, "Lord, he whom thou lovest is 
sick." Thev thought thev did not need to ask 
him if he woukl come and heal their brother. 
Thev knew that Jesus loved him and would 
surely help. 

But Jesus did not start at once for Bethany. 



190 



STORIES FROM THE TJEE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



He waited two whole days before lie set out. 
The disciples did not want him to go at all, for 
Bethany was close to Jerusalem, and in Jerusa- 
lem there were cruel men who hated Jesus. Xot 
very long ago these men had tried to stone him 
and kill him, and the disciples did not think it 
safe to go back. 

But Jesus was not afraid. He knew his Father 
would take care of him, and so he prepared to 
go to help the poor sorrowful sisters. 

Then, as they journeyed along, Jesus said to 
his disciples, "Lazarus is asleep, but I go that I 
may awake him out of sleep." 

The disciples had forgotten about the ruler's 
little daughter, and how Jesus had said she was 
only asleep when she was dead. So they an- 
swered him now: "But, Master, if he is asleep 
it will do him good, and it would not be a good 
thing to awake him." So then Jesus told them 
plainly that Lazarus was dead. 

Yes, indeed, Lazarus had died four da}-s ago, 
and already they had put away his body into a 
rocky cave and buried it out of sight. 

The two sisters sat in the lonely sad home 
weeping together. Presently the neighbors came 
in to try to comfort them, and they sat weeping 
there too. Then a wdiisper went round that Jesus 
had been seen coming up the road to the village. 
The wdiisper reached Martha's ear, and she 
raised her tear-stained face and went quickly 
out of the house to meet him. 

And when she saw him, and met his kind, lov- 
ing look, she cried out in bitter sorrow the 
thought that had been hurting her all along: 
"Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had 
not died." 

Tesus answered her quietlv, "Thy brother shall 
rise again." Martha knew that all people who 
died would one day rise again and li\'e forever, 
and she thought that was wdiat Jesus meant. But 
again Jesus told her that he could make all things 
alive because he was God's Son. jMartha an- 
swered humbly that she did indeed know that he 
was God's Son and could do anvtliing. Then she 
hurried quickly back to the house and whispered 
to her sister, "The Master is come, and calleth 
for thee." 

As soon as Mary heard that Jesus was near 
she too went quickly out to meet him. The neigh- 
bors, who thought she had gone to weep at her 
brother's grave, followed her to try to comfort 
her. 

But Mary had gone to the one place where she 
knew comfort was to be found. Down at fesus's 
feet she knelt, and, like Martha, she could only 
sob out the one sorrowful thought, "Lord, if 
thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." 



They had looked so anxiously hour by hour for 
Icsus to come. They had felt so sure that he 
would help them, and now at last when he had 
come it was too late. 

It made Jesus very sorrowful to see her there 
kneeling at his feet, cr^dng as if her heart would 
break. /Vnd though he knew he would soon be 
able to make her glad, it grieved him to see her 
sadness, and he wept too. 

Now wdien the neighbors saw the tears in Je- 
sus's eves, they said to one another: "See how 
he must have loved Lazarus. Why, then, did he 
not come sooner and make him well, as he has 
hcaletl so many sick people." 

Then Jesus asked wdiere they had laid the body 
of Lazarus, and they led him to the cave where 
Lazarus was buried. 

There was a great stone in front of the cave, 
and Jesus told them to roll it away. Every one 
wondered wdiat he meant to do, but they did as 
he bade them, and then stood waiting to see what 
would happen. 

Then Jesus stood in front of the cave, and, 
looking up to heaven, he spoke aloud to his 
Father. "Father, I thank thee that thou hast 
heard me," he said. He wanted all the people to 
know that God, wdio was his Father, always lis- 
tened to him and helped him. Then with a loud 
voice he cried out, "Lazarus, come forth." 

How eagerly the people looked on, how breath- 
lessly they waited. Did it really mean that his 
voice could call the dead man back to life? 

Yes, surely, for there at the opening of the 
cave stood Lazarus, alive and well, just as if he 
had been wakened from a sleep. 

\\'hat a happy little home that was once more I 
And if Mary and Martha had loved Jesus before, 
how much more they loved and trusted him now. 
They were surer than ever that he was indeeS 
God's Son, the King of heaven, who had power 
to do wdiatever he willed. 

Many of the neighbors too began to believe that 
this was truly the Son of God, and the news of 
the wonderful miracle was carried far and wide. 

But the people wdio hated Jesus, and could not 
bear to hear him called God's Son, or a King, 
were more angrv than ever wdien they heard how 
he had brought Lazarus back to life. They made 
up their minds that they must get rid of him, and 
so they began to make their wicked plans as to 
how they might seize him and put him to death. 

CHAPTER XXIV 

THE BLIND JI.\N WHO CRIED TO JESUS 

Think how sad it must be to be blind, never to 
see the sunshine or the flowers, but always to live 



STORIES FROM THE LIEE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHIIT)REN 



191 



in the dark. How the poor liliml people nuist have 
longed for Jesus to come near them and heal 
them ! How eagerly thev must ha\'e listened dav 
by day for the sound of his footsteps ! 

There was one blind man, named Bartima'us, 
who had heard a great deal abiait lesns, and felt 
sure that if onh- he could come to him, Jesus 
would make his eves well. 

This poor blind man was not aide to do anv 
work. The only thing he could do was to sit at 
the roadside and beg kind people who passed by 
to give him a little monev. 

And one day as he sat as usual bv the side of 
the road that led to the busy cit)-, he heard ihe 
tramp of many feet coming along. A\'hat could 
such a crowd mean? He put out his hand and 
caught at the cloak of the first passer-by and 
asked eagerlv : "What is the meaning of all that 
noise? Is there a great crowd coming along the 
road?" 

"Jesus of Xazareth is passing by this way," 
was the answer. 

Jesus, the great teacher, the man who could 
heal the sick, and make blind people see ! Oh, if 
only this Jesus would stop for a moment as he 
passed, and help him too. 

The blind man could not go to him, he could 
not grope his way in that crowd. There was 
onlv one thing he could do, and so he cried out 
as loudlv as he could, "O Jesus, help me !" 

The people who were hurrying past were 
angry with this beggar who was crying out so 
loudly. They spoke roughly to him and told him' 
to be quiet and not try to stop Jesus and trouble 
him. But the blind man took no notice of their 
harsh words. He did not care what the people 
said to him, if onlv he could cry loud enough to 
make Jesus hear him. So again the cry rose, 
louder even and more anxious than before, "O 
Jesus, help me!" And through all the noise of 
the crowd and the sound of many feet, Jesus 
heard that pitiful cry, and stopped. 

"Bring the poor man to me," he said. There 
were many hands ready to lead the Idind man to 
Jesus, and the people near him spoke kindly to 
him now, and said, "Do not be afraid, Jesus is 
calling you." 

In a moment the blind man was on his feet. 
He threw aside his cloak that he might move 
more quickly, and so they led him trembling to 
where Jesus stood. 

He was a little frightened perhaps with the 
noise of that great crowd, and could not tell 
where he was, as the people led him forward. 
But as soon as he heard Jesus's voice he was 
afraid no longer. Never in all his life had he 
heard such a kind, gentle voice before. 



"Wdiat dost thou wisli that I should do for 
thee ?" said the voice. 

The bliml ni.an answered at once, "Lord, that 
I ma\' l)e able to see." 

It was the one thing lie wanted, the one thing 
he felt so sure that Jesus would do, that he would 
lead him out of darkness into the li.ght. 

"Because thou hast trusted to me to help thee, 
I ha\-e opened thine e\es," said the voice again. 

Yes, the darkness was gone. There were the 
golden sunshine and the blue sky. There were 
the fair green trees and distant purple hills. 
There close to him were the eager faces of the 
crowd. But best, far best of all, there was the 
face of Jesus looking so kindly, so pityingly at 
him. 

The crowd began to move on, with Jesus in 
the midst of them, but the man who had been 
blind did not ,go back to the roadside to beg. He 
too followed after Jesus, thanking God with his 
whole heart, and feeling that all he wanted now 
was to keep close to the side of his Master. 



CH.VPTER XXV 

THE LITTLi; MATSI WHO TRIED TO SEE JESUS 

There was another man, that same day, wdio was 
longing ^-er}- greatl)- to see Jesus. He was not 
a poor man like Bartim:cus, and did not need 
Jesus as the blind man had done, for he was 
strong and well. But still he wanted to see Jesus 
very much indeed. He had heard of all the won- 
derful things that the great teacher had done, 
and had heard too some of his wonderful words. 

Kow this man, whose name was Zacchreus, was 
not a ver)' good man. People said he took money 
which did not belong to him and did other wrong 
things too. He was such a very little man that 
his head only reached the shoulders of other 
men, and in a crowd he never could see anything. 

And now Jesus was to pass by, and of course 
there would be a crowd around him. Zacchsus 
was sure of that, but somehow or other he was 
determined that he woidd see the great teacher. 
He wonflered how it would he possible to do this, 
and then suddenly he thought of a very good ■ 
plan. 

There were tall trees growing along the side 
of the road along which Jesus would pass. The 
branches stretched across the pathway, and if he 
could climb into one of these trees, and sit on 
one of the branches, then he could look down and 
see Jesus plainly as he passed. 

So the little man climbed quickly into one of 
the trees and waited f(5r Jesus to come. How 
eagerly he looked down from among the 



192 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



branches, and when the sound of man}' feet came 
nearer and nearer, how anxiously he bent over 
10 catch the first ghmpse of the wonderful 
teacher. The crowd began to pass below the 
tree, and Zacchtxus was glad to think he was 
safely above them. He would have seen noth- 
ing in such a throng. Then suddenly in the 
midst of the crowd he caught sight of the Mas- 
ter. He had no thoughts then to spare for the 
busy throng or his own safety, he could only 
think of Jesus. 

Very earnestly Zacchaus looked at that kind, 
kingly face, and as he looked it made him wish 
that he was a better man. Somehow the very 
sight of Jesus made him sorry for all the bad 
things he had ever done. 

He was quite hidden by the thick green leaves, 
he thought, and he never dreamed that Jesus 
would look up and see him. But Jesus knew he 
was there. He knew how anxious the little man 
had been to see him, and how sorry he was now, 
and how he longed to be good. 

So, looking up into the tree, Jesus said: "Zac- 
chffius, make haste and come down, for to-day I 
must stay in thy house." Zacchfeus came climb- 
ing down the tree as quickly as he could. It 
seemed too good to be true that the great teacher 
had not only spoken to him but was coming home 
with him. Very humbly he led Jesus to his house, 
and there he welcomed him most joyfully. 

There were people in the crowd who were 
angry with Jesus for going to that little man's 
house. 

"He is not a good man," they said. 

But that is just why Jesus had gone. It was to 
help bad people to be good that he had come from 
heaven. 

And Zacchjeus never forgot the day when he 
climbed into the tree and first saw Jesus's face. 
He never forgot the kind words Jesus spoke to 
him, and he tried to be good and do no more 
wrong things, that he might be fit to be a friend 
of Jesus. 

CHAPTER XXVI 

HOW JESUS RODE INTO JERUSALEM 

When the time came round for the great service, 
called the Passover, to be held in the temple at 
Jerusalem, Jesus set out as usual to go to it. He 
had gone every year, ever since he was a boy of 
twelve. 

The disciples had done their best to persuade 
Jesus to stay away this year. They were afraid 
of all those learned men who were at Jerusalem 
who hated their Master and had already tried to 
kill him. But Jesus would not try to escape any 



of the pain and suffering that was waiting for 
him, for he knew that it was part of God's plan. 

So they all set out together to go to the great 
city. But before they reached Jerusalem Jesus 
stopped and told his disciples to go into a vil- 
lage close by. There, he told them, they would 
find an ass tied up, and they were to unloose it 
and bring it to him. Perhaps the man to whom 
the ass belonged would ask them why they were 
taking it away, but they were just to say that 
Jesus needed it. 

So the disciple friends went, as Jesus bade 
them, and they found the ass in the village. It 
was a very young ass, and no one had ever yet 
ridden on it. Just as they were unloosing it the 
owner came and asked them what they meant by 
doing so. But when they told him that Jesus 
needed it, he at once allowed them to lead it 
away. 

Then the disciples spread some of their clothes 
on the ass's back to make a comfortable seat for 
Jesus to sit on, and so he rode on toward the 
great city. 

But great crowds had begun to gather round 
Jesus as he went. The people from the city came 
out to meet him and ran before him crying out 
that the King was coming. Some of them took 
off their cloaks and spread them on the road to 
make a carpet for Jesus to pass over. Others 
cut down branches from the trees and laid them 
along the way to make a pleasant green path be- 
fore him. And all the while the cry grew louder 
and louder : "The King is coming ! the King 
whom God has sent. Hosanna in the highest!" 
Every minute the crowd grew larger, till it 
seemed as if every one in the city had come 
out to do him honor. It was like a royal wel- 
come. 

The children came running out too to greet 
Jesus, and they went in front singing praises to 
the King. It seemed as if the people had at last 
found out that Jesus was indeed a King, the Son 
of God. 

How glad and proud the disciples were I They 
thought that now at last their Master would have 
all the riches and honor of an earthly king. But 
Jesus knew better. He did not want an earthly 
kingdom, for his kingdom was in heaven. These 
people who to-day called him their King would 
shout a different cry to-morrow. 

Ah, yes, the friends of Jesus thought he was 
riding into the city to be made a great king, but 
he knew that he was going there to suffer and to 
meet his death. 



"Ride on, ride on in majesty ; 
In loWly pomp ride on to die." 




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194 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



CHAPTER XXYH 

THE ENEMIES OF JESUS 

The enemies of Jesus were more angry than ever 
when they saw how the people welcomed him. 
They hated to hear him called a king. They were 
angry even with the little children who loved 
him. Like the wicked King Herod long ago, they 
wished that they could kill him. 

But it was difficult to do him harm when all 
the people crowded round him. These men w:re 
afraid that the crowd would not allow them to 
take Jesus, and so they had to try to think of 
some other plan. Every day thev hated him the 
more as he went about teaching the people, 
healing those that were sick, with his kind, 
loving touch, and telling his wonderful lesson- 
stories. 

How those cruel men longed to stop him. But 
how could they find a way? Ah, it is sad indeed 
to think of the way they found. It was one of 
Jesus's own disciple friends who showed those 
enemies an easy way to take him. 

The name of that disciple was Judas, He must 
have been a good and kind man once, when Jesus 
chose him for a friend. But he had one fault 
that grew bigger and bigger till it left no room 
in his heart for kindness and goodness. He loved 
money better than anything, even better than his 
Master. 

So when those enemies of Jesus sent for Judas 
and said to him, "If thou wilt show us how we 
can secretly seize thy Master we will give thee 
thirty pieces of silver," Judas answered that he 
would take the money and show them a way. 
Oh, how pitiful it was to think that any one who 
had been Jesus's friend could do such a thing as 
this! Of all the sad things in the world that 
have ever happened this was the saddest. Jesus 
might expect his enemies to try to hurt him, but 
who would have thought that a friend could have 
wished to do him harm ! 

Jesus knew that his enemies were watching 
him and that very soon they would take him, and 
that he would no longer be able to help and teach 
the people. There were so manv lessons he 
longed to teach these poor people before he left 
them, so he never rested now, but taught them all 
day long. His beautiful words and the stories he 
told are all in the Bible, where you may read 
them. For the words he spoke were meant for us 
just as much as for the crowds who listened to 
him then. 

And still his enemies waited on, hoping that 
Judas would soon come and tell them where they 
could find Jesus when he was alone, with no one 
to help him. 



CHAPTER XXVHI 

THE STORY OF THE WISE AND THE 
FOOLISH VIRGINS 

One of the stories wliich Jesus told the people at 
that time was the story of the wise and the fool- 
ish virgins. 

There were ten virgins or young maidens who 
started out together one evening to welcome 
home a bride and bridegroom. They set out mer- 
rily with their lighted lamps, dressed in all their- 
gay wedding garments. For when the bride- 
groom came they would go in with him to the 
great wedding feast which was prepared in the 
house. 

The night began to grow very dark, the maid- 
ens grew very tired of watching for the coming 
of the bridal party. At last their tired eyes could 
keep awake no longer, and as they sat by the 
roadside they fell fast asleep. 

Suddenly while they were sleeping, a cry 
sounded close by, "The bridegroom is coming, go 
ye out to meet him." 

In a moment the maidens were all wide awake, 
and thev started up to go to meet the bride and 
bridegroom. But while they had slept their lamps 
had burned very low, and they were obliged to 
wait and trim the wicks to make them burn more 
brightly. 

Now five of these virgins were wise maidens, 
and had filled their lamps full of oil to last a long 
time, in case the bridegroom was late in coming. 
So now, when the wicks were trimmed, the lamps, 
burned as brightly as ever. 

But the other five virgins were foolish and' 
thoughtless. They had thought the bridegroom' 
would be sure to come soon, and they had not 
troubled to fill their lamps full of oil. 

And now when they wanted the light so badly 
their lamps began to flicker and go out, for the 
wicks were dry. 

Then these foolish virgins turned to the wise 
maidens and said, "Give us some of your oil, for 
our lamps are gone out." 

But the wise maidens shook their heads, and 
said they could not do that. "If we give you our 
oil there will not be enough for our own lamps," 
they said. "It will be better if ye go and buy oil 
for yourselves." 

So the foolish virgins hurried off to find some 
one who would sell them oil for their lamps. And 
while they were gone the bridegroom came. 

Then the five maidens with their shining lamps 
joined the gay bridal party, and they all went 
together into the house where the wedding feast 
was waiting. And when they had all entered in, 
the door was shut. 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



195 



Not very long afterward the foolish ■ virgins 
■came hurrying back. Their lamps were lighted 
now, and they were ready to welcome the bride- 
groom. But when they came to tlie house, they 
found the door was shut. 

Inside they could hear the sound of merry 
voices and feasting, and the maidens knocked and 
.knocked. But no one heard them. 
"Lord, Lord, open to us," thev cried. 
And at last the voice of the bridegroom an- 
swered them, saying, 'T do not know vou." 

They had not been ready to meet him, the)' 
must be strangers. So now thev could not cume 
in. They were too late, they could onlv turn, 
weeping, awav. 

There is a lesson in this story, as there alwa\"S 
is in the stories Jesus told. 

He bids us remember that some day he will 
come again, and we nmst be rcadv to welcome 
him as those wise maidens welcomed the bride- 
groom. If we love Jesus and ask his Holv Spirit, 
day by day, to help us to serve him, our lives will 
be like lights in the world, every one will know 
that we belong to him, and he will call us his 
friends when he comes. 

But if we are like the foolish maidens and for- 
get to ask him to help us to be .good, the light 
will die out and we shall not be ready to meet 
him. 

'*Jesus bids us shine 
With a pure clear light, 
Lil;e a little candle 
Burning in the night ; 
In the world is darl^ncss, 
So we must shine — 
You in >'Our small corner, 
And I in mine. 

"Jesus bids us shine, 
First of all for him : 
Well he sees and knows it, 
If our lights grow dim ; 
He looks down from heaven 
To see us shine — 
You in your small corner, 
And I in mine." 



CHAPTER XXIX 

THE STORY OF THE T.XLENTS 

Then Jesus went on to tell the people another 
story, and this was the story of the talents. 

There was once a great lord who set out on a 
journey to a far-away country. But before he 
started he called all his servants together to tell 
them what they should do while he was away. 
Each of the servants was to have a share of his 
money to use in the best possible way he could. 

To one servant the lord gave five shares or 



talents. To another servant his lord gave two 
shares or talents, and to another servant his lord 
gave one share or talent. 

Then the master set off on his journey and left 
them. Now tlie servant who had' received five 
talents was very wise and careful. He totjk the 
money and liegan to trade with it. That is to 
say, he bought something that cost a very little 
monc)-, like wood, and out of it made other tilings, 
like chairs and tables, which he could sell for a 
great deal of money. So before long he had ten 
talents, instead of five, ready to give to his mas- 
ter. 

The servant who had two talents did just the 
same. He bought with his two talents something 
of which lie could make useful things, and these 
he sold for four talents. 

But the servant who had only one talent was 
idle and foolish. Instead of buying things with 
the money, and then trying to make more money, 
he went and diggeil a hole in the ground and hid 
his lord's talent. And there the money lay, idle 
and useless, all the time that his master was away. 

After a while the lord of those servants came 
back. He called the men together and asked them 
what the)- had done, and how they had used his 
money. 

Then the first servant who had traded so wisely 
came and said: 'T^ord, thou didst give me five 
talents, see now I have gained five talents luore, 
and I have ten talents to give thee." 

Then his lord said to him: "Well done, thou 
goofl servant. Thou hast shown that I can trust 
thee. Thou hast done so well with the little 
mone}- I gave thee, that now I will trust thee 
with nuich more. Thou shalt share all the riches 
and happiness that belong to thy lord." 

After that the second servant came, and he 
showed his lord how he had gained two more tal- 
ents. And to him too his lord said "Well done," 
and promised him a share of his riches. 

But the servant who had hidden the one talent 
was not glad to see his lord. He was sullen and 
angry because he knew he had done wrong, and 
so he began to make excuses for his idleness. 

"I thought thou wert a strict, stern man," he 
said, "so I was afraid to spend the money, and I 
hid it and never used it at all." 

Then his lord was very angry, and told him he 
was an idle, bad servant. And because he could 
not be trusted to use his master's mone)', the one 
talent was taken away from him and given to 
the wise servant who already had ten talents. 

Do you see the lesson hidden away in this 
story? It is God who is the great Master, and 
we are all his servants. He gives to each of us 
different gifts or talents, things which we ca.n 



196 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



use. To some', he g;ives clever hands that can 
work well, to some clever heads that can learn 
quickly. Every one has some special gift from 
God which is to be used for him. And some day 
he will come and ask us how we have used his 
gifts. 

Then if we have done our very best, if we 
have tried to work hard and grow better and 
wifer and have used our gift to help other peo- 
ple too, then, like the wise and careful servants, 
we too shall hear our Lord's voice saying: "Well 
done, thou good servant. Thou hast shown that 
I can trust thee on earth, come now and share 
with me the joys of heaven." 



CHAPTER XXX 

THE LAST SUPPER 

Just as there was a special service held in the 
beautiful temple, so at that time a special feast or 
supper was eaten by every one in his own house. 
It was not just a common supper, but was held 
to remind people of a special time when God had 
helped them. No matter how poor a person was, 
he always had this thanksgiving supper. 

The disciples did not know where they could 
make the supper ready for Jesus and for them- 
selves. They had no home to go to, not even a 
room where they could sit down and eat. But 
Jesus told them where they would find a room, 
and told them also that the owner of the room 
would gladly lend it. So they went, as Jesus told 
them, and when they found the room they pre- 
pared the thanksgiving supper. 

When the evening shadows began to fall, Jesus 
and his twelve disciples all went to eat the sup- 
per together. Even Judas was there, for he still 
pretended to be a friend, and the other disciples 
did not guess that he was planning to help those 
cruel men to take Jesus. But Jesus knew, for he 
could see into Judas's heart and read all his 
thoughts. 

Now as the disciples were sitting down to sup- 
per they began to quarrel about where they should 
sit. They all wanted the best places, each one 
wanted to be first and have his own way. 

It was the custom then that all the guests at 
supper should first of all have their feet washed 
as well as their hands, to cool and refresh them. 
But the disciples were not going to do this. It 
was a servant's work, they thought, so no one 
moved to get the water, even to wash their Mas- 
ter's tired feet. 

It grieved Jesus to see them so selfish, thinking 
only of themselves. Very quietly he rose from 
the table and took a towel, poured the cool clean 



water into a basin, and kneeling down began to 
wash the disciples' feet himself. 

Oh, how sorry and ashamed they felt then ! To 
think that their King and Master should do the 
work of a servant and wash their feet I But Jesus 
quietly went on, for he wished to teach them a 
lesson. 

Then when it was done he looked at them 
gravely, and said : "Ye call me Master and Lord ; 
and ye say well, for so I am. If I then, your 
Lord and Master, have washed your feet, ye also 
ought to wash one another's feet." That was the 
lesson he wanted us all to learn, that we are al- 
ways to try to serve one another. A selfish 
person who thinks only of himself and wants 
always to have the best things, and thinks him- 
self too good to help and serve other people, can 
never be counted a friend of Jesus. Jesus our 
King showed us how he could do the humblest 
servant's work, that we might learn to be like 
him. 

So the washing of the feet being finished, they 
all sat down at the table. Jesus then took the 
bread and blessed it and broke it and gave each 
of his disciples a piece. Then he took the cup of 
wine in his hand and blessed it and gave it to his 
disciples to drink. The bread and wine were his 
body and blood, he said, and afterward they were 
to do as he had done in remembrance of him. Do 
you remember how Jesus fed the great crowd of 
people with five loaves and two small fishes? 
That was very wonderful, but this was more won- 
derful still. For he not onl}' gave them the bread 
and wine, but he gave them himself as well. 
Some day you will understand what a wonderful 
gift this was, for he still gives this precious gift 
to us, when we take the bread and wine as he 
told us to do in remembrance of him. So he 
taught them what they should do when he was 
gone. 

Then as he sat and looked at the faces of those 
twelve men whom he had chosen to be his friends, 
he grew very sad to think that one of them was 
now an enemy and wished to do him harm. 

"There is one of you," he said to them, "one of 
you, my own disciple friends, who is going to 
help my enemies to take me." 

Oh, how guilty Judas must have felt when Je- 
sus said that ! Surely he was ashamed when Jesus 
looked so sorrowfully at him. Even now it was 
not too late, he might tell Jesus how wicked he 
had been but how sorry he was. Jesus would 
have forgiven him and helped him to be good 
again. 

But Satan was there tempting Judas and re- 
minding him of the pieces of silver which had 
been promised him. So at last when Jesus told 



STORIES FROM THE LIEE OF JESUS FOR LFrTLE CHILDREN 



197 



him to do what he meant to do quickly, he got up 
and went out into the dark niglit. He left his 
kind loving- Master and went to those cruel men, 
out from the light and sweetness of Jesus's pres- 
ence into the dark night, to do his wicked work. 

Then Jesus turned to the other disciples and 
began to talk to them. He loved these friends so 
dearly, just as he loves each one of us his chil- 
dren, and he longed that they should learn more 
and more how to be good and kind and true. He 
knew he was soon going to leave them, and there 
would be no one else to teach them. 

"Little children," he said, just as a mother talks 
to the little ones she loves so well. "Little chil- 
dren, there is a new rule I want to give you. 
Love one another. Just as I have loved you, 
learn to love one another. In a little while I 
shall have to leave you, but every one will know 
that ye belong to me if ye are gentle and loving 
to one another." 

Peter could not bear to think that his Master 
was going away from them, and he asked him 
quickly, "Lord, where is it that thou art going?" 

Jesus answered: "I am going to a place where 
thou canst not follow me just now, Peter, but 
some day thou too wilt come." 

Peter said to him: "Lord, why cannot I follow 
thee now? I will lay down my life for thy sake." 

Poor Peter, he felt so brave and so sure of 
himself. He knew that the enemies of Jesus 
wanted to kill him, and if Jesus meant that he 
was going to die, Peter was quite ready to die 
with him. 

But Jesus knew Peter better than Peter knew 
himself. 

"Wilt thou indeed lay down thy life for my 
sake?" he asked. "Before very long thou wilt be 
afraid to say thou art my friend, and before the 
cock crows twice thou wilt have said three times 
that thou dost not even know me." 

How sorry Peter must have been when Jesus 
spoke these words. He could not believe that he 
would be such a coward, he thought that nothing 
would ever make him leave his dear Master. All 
the other disciples were sad too as they listened 
to what Jesus said. What could he mean by say- 
ing he was going to leave them ? What would 
they do if Jesus went away? 

And Jesus, seeing how sorrowful they were, 
tried to comfort them. He told them that he was 
going back to his Father in heaven, and that 
there he would prepare a place for each of them. 
Then when their work on earth was done they 
would come too and he would be there to wel- 
come them. And then he went on to say that 
though he went away and they could not see him, 



he would always be near to help and comfort 
them. 

And that is the promise he gives to each one of 
us, even little children. There is nothing a little 
child need fear, for Jesus is always close at hand 
and always ready to help if we ask him. 

So when Jesus had finished speaking the com- 
forting words to his disciples, they sang a hymn 
together and went out. 



CHAPTER XXXI 

JESUS IN THE GARDEN 

Not very far outside the gates of Jerusalem 
there was a garden on the slope of a hill. It was 
a place where Jesus often went to rest, and there 
under the silver olive-trees he could be alone and 
pray to his Father. The disciples knew that Jesus 
loved to go to that garden, and Judas knew it too. 

It was to this peaceful quiet garden that Jesus 
went after that last supper. The night was dark, and 
the disciples were very tired and ready to stretch 
themselves on the grass and sleep. But Jesus 
could not sleep. His heart was too full of sor- 
row, and he needed his Father's help. He took 
only three of the disciple friends with him into 
the garden, the three perhaps that he loved best, 
Peter, James, and John. Then he bade them 
watch while he went on a little farther to pray. 

Jesus knew that his enemies would soon have 
their own way, that they would make him suffer 
pain and put him to a cruel death. But it was not 
that that made him so sorrowful. He was too 
brave to be afraid of pain or even death. No, 
there was something far worse that Jesus feared, 
and that was sin. All the wrong and wicked 
things that people had done, all the bad things we 
do now, Jesus, was going to take them all upon 
himself and suffer in our stead. 

One little sin will often make us very unhappy. 
Then how unhappy Jesus must have been when 
he had to bear the sins of the whole world. 

So he knelt and prayed God to help him 
through all the suffering, and God sent an angel 
to strengthen and comfort him. 

Jesus had told his disciples to watch and pray 
and not to sleep. But they were so very tired 
that each time Jesus went back to them he found 
them sleeping. They woke up ashamed when 
they heard their Master's voice asking the first 
time, "What, could ye not watch with me one 
hour?" But when he left them again their heavy 
eyelids began to droop over their tired eyes, and 
although they tried their best to keep awake they 
were soon fast asleep once more. So Jesus found 
them when he returned again, and once more he 



198 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



bade them watch and pray. But when he came 
back the third time he told them that now they 
might sleep on and need not try to watch any 
longer, for his enemies were close at hand. 

Even as he spoke there was a rustling among 
the trees and the sound of the tramp of many feet 
coming nearer and nearer. 

The disciples were wide awake now, and they 
gathered close round their iMaster, trembling and 
afraid. Yes, there were the enemies of Jesus 
come to take him. There was a company of sol- 
diers, and servants wdth sticks and swords, and 
there too among them was Judas. 

In a moment Judas had come hurrying straight 
to where Jesus stood. "Hail, Master!" he said, 
and kissed him. This was what he had promised 
to do to show the soldiers which was Jesus. 

Then the soldiers rushed forward to seize Je- 
sus, but they could not take him against his will. 
The King stood there looking steadily at them, 
and when they met that look they all went back- 
ward and fell to the ground. 

Jesus asked them then, "Whom seek ye?" 

"We seek Jesus of Nazareth," they answered. 

"I am he," said Jesus; "if ye want only me, 
then let my friends go." 

For even then he thought of those friends he 
loved so well. 

Peter, however, could not bear to see his ]\Ias- 
ter made a prisoner. He started forward, and 
drawing his sword he cut off the ear of one of 
the men. But Jesus did not need Peter's sword. 
He could have had an army of shining angels to 
fight for him if he had wanted help. He told 
Peter to put his sword away, and then, with his 
ever kind and gentle touch, he healed the man 
who had been hurt. 

Then the- soldiers bound Jesus and led him 
awaj' back to Jerusalem, where the rest of his 
enemies were waiting for him. 



CHAPTER XXXII 

now PETER PRETENDED THAT HE DID NOT 
KNOW HIS MASTER 

■Jesus was quite alone when the soldiers took him 
a prisoner back to Jerusalem. Not one of his 
disciple friends were wdth him. They had all 
left him, for they were too frightened to go with 
Jesus. Not one of them \\-as brave enough to 
say, "Pie is mv Friend and Master, I will go with 
him." 

Where then was Peter who was so sure that 
he was ready to die witli Jesus? Peter was as 
frightened as the rest. He did not run away and 



hide, but he and another disciple followed a long 
way off, hoping that no one would notice them. 

When the soldiers reached Jerusalem they took 
lesus to the palace of one of his enemies, and 
Peter managed to pass in too. 

It was a cold night, and there was a fire burn- 
ing in the court. The servants gathered round 
the fire talking about the prisoner whom the sol- 
diers had brought, and wondering what would 
be done to him. Peter wanted to hear what they 
said, so he came near the fire too, and began to 
warm himself and to listen. But as he stood there 
one of the maid-servants looked earnestly at him 
and said, "This man was with Jesus, he must be 
a friend of his." All Peter's courage left him. 

"I don't even know him," he answered quickly. 

AVith beating, frightened heart, Peter left the 
fire, and went outside the door into the porch, 
but there another servant saw him and called to 
the others, saying, "This fellow was also in the 
garden with Jesus of Nazareth." 

And again Peter answered angrily, "I do not 
know the man." 

But it was no use; the servants were sure this 
was one of Jesus's followers, and they said again, 
"We are certain thou art one of his friends." 

Peter became more frightened and angry every 
minute, and he said very loud and furiously, "I 
do not even know Jesus." 

And just then in the quiet of the early dawn 
Peter heard the sound of a cock crowing. 

In a moment he remembered those words 
which Jesus had spoken : "Before the cock crows 
twice thou wilt have said three times that thou 
dost not even know me." 

There was a stir inside just then, and Peter 
looked quickly up. They were bringing Jesus 
through the hall. Peter's Master had heard him 
sa_y so loud and angrily, "I do not even know 
Jesus," had heard too the sound of the cock crow- 
ing. 

But Jesus said not a word. He only turned 
and looked at Peter. 

But oh ! how sorry that look made Peter feel, 
sorrier than he had ever felt in all his life before. 
To think that he had pretended not to know his 
kind, gentle Master, the best Friend he ever had. 
He was so ashamed and sorry that he went out 
and wept bitterly. He did truly love Jesus, al- 
though he had been so false and cowardly. And 
Jesus knew that Peter really loved him and was 
truly sorrv, and so he forgave him. But I do not 
think Peter ever forgave himself, or forgot to be 
sorry for what he had done. Only that sorrow- 
ful, forgiving look helped him to be brave and 
true all the rest of his life, and to love lesus even 
more than he had done before. 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF lESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



199 



CHAPTER XXXIII 

HOW THE WICKED MEN TREATED THEIR KING 

All that long night Jesus waited until his ene- 
mies should make up their minds what thev would 
do with him. He stood there like a lamlj among 
wild beasts, for the people who hated him were 
fierce and cruel as wolves. 

When the morning came they took Jesus to a 
judge called Pontius Pilate, and asked him to de- 
cide what they should do with this prisoner. 

Now Pilate felt sure that Jesus had done noth- 
ing wrong, and he wanted to set him free. But 
that made the people very angry, and they shouted 
out, "He must die !" 

"Why, what wrong has he done?" asked Pilate. 

"He savs he is a King," cried his enemies. 

Then Pilate turned to Jesus, \\'ho stood so 
quietlv and patientlv there before him. "Art 
thou indeed a King?" he asked. 

And Jesus answered, "Yes, I am a King." 

Then the people shouted even louder, throwing 
up their arms and pointing at Jesus. "Crucify 
him! crucify him!" they cried. 

That crv meant that they wanted Jesus to be 
nailed to a cross of wood and there left to die. 
It was the way that very wicked people were 
punished, and was the most shameful and cruel 
death. Yet that is what they wished should be 
done to this kind gentle Jesus who had always 
gone about among them to do them good and to 
help them. 

Oh, how sorrowful Jesus was as he stood there 
so patiently while the angry people stormed and 
shouted below. He had done them no harm, and 
yet they hated him so sorely. 

Pilate, watching Jesus, felt more and more cer- 
tain that he did not deserve to be punished at all. 
But he thought it would satisfy the people if he 
gave his soldiers orders to beat Jesus and then 
let him go. 

So the rough soldiers took Jesus and began to 
beat him with knotted ropes and to mock him. 

He had said he was a King ; well, they would 
pretend he was one. They threw a gay-colored 
robe round his shoulders, and plaited a wreath of 
thorns and set it on his head instead of a crown. 
The sharp thorns pierced his forehead, but 
sharper than the thorns was the pain that pierced 
his heart to think that these men could be so 
cruel. 

"Look at the King!" they cried. 

It was all a game, they thought, to pretend that 
he was a King. Oh, if only they had known that 
he was indeed the King of heaven ! 

Then again Pilate took Jesus out to the people, 
and asked them if he might set him free. But the 



people cried even louder than before, "Crucify 
him ! crucify him I" 

"Would ye have mc crucify your King?" asked 
Pilate. 

"He is not our King; we will not have him for 
our King!" cried those wicked men. 

Then Pilate saw it was no use to try to save 
Jesus, and because he was a coward and was 
afraid of the people, he said, "Take him then, and 
crucify him yourselves." 

So those wicked men got their own way at last. 
Jesus was to die. The Son of God was ready to 
carry out his Father's plan. 



CHAPTER XXXIV 

THE CROSS OF JESUS 

\'ery quickly those wicked men led Jesus away to 
a hill outside the city, and there they nailed their 
King to a cross of wood. Those kind hands, 
which with their gentle touch had healed the sick 
so often, had made blind people able to see, and 
had blessed little children, were fastened each 
with a nail to the cross. Those tired feet, which 
had never rested while people needed help, had 
another nail driven through them. And so Jesus 
was lifted up on the cross to die. 

Was he angry, do you think, with those cruel 
men who hurt him so? Oh, no, Jesus loved even 
his enemies, and when he hung there upon the 
cross he prayed to God and said, "Father, forgive 
them, for they know not what they do." 

It makes us very, very sad to think of Jesus 
then, and to remember that it was for us that he 
suffered all that pain. 

"There is a green hill far away, 

Without a city wall. 
Where the dear Lord was crucified. 

Who died to save us all. 
He died that we mi.ght be forgiven, 

He died to make us good, 
That we might go at last to heaven, 

Saved by his precious blood." 

There were very few friends near Jesus then, 
but his mother and John stood close beneath the 
cross. 

His mother had the saddest heart of all. She 
had loved him so dearly ever since she held him, 
a little baby, safe in her arms. She knew that 
this must be part of God's plan, but she wept 
tears of bitter sorrow as she stood there. Very 
tenderly Jesus spoke to her. In the midst of all 
his pain he still thought of other people and tried 
to comfort them. 

He knew how these two would miss him, his 
dear mother and the disciple whom he loved per- 



200 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



haps best of all. So now he told John to take the 
weeping mother home and be like a son to her, 
while he gave the beloved disciple unto Mary's 
charge asking her to be a mother to him. 

There were two other crosses set up, one on 
each side of Jesus, and on these crosses hung 
two thieves. At first both these thieves joined in 
the mocking cries of the people who watched 
Jesus. But by and by one of them grew silent. 
He knew that he deserved to die, for he had lived 
a wicked life, but when he looked at Jesus he felt 
sure that this man did not deserve to be nailed 
to a cross. Who was this Jesus who hung so 
patiently there ? What words were those written 
above his head? "This is the King of the Jews." 
What if this was really a King? The poor thief 
listened quietly. He lieard that prayer, "Father, 
forgive them, for they know not what they do.'' 
Surely this must indeed be God's Son, the King 
of heaven. Was it too late to ask for his help? 

"Lord," he cried, "remember me when thou 
comest into thy kingdom." 

And the answer came quickly from the cross 
where Jesus hung: "To-day shalt thou be with 
me in Paratlise." 

No, it is never too late to seek the help of 
Jesus. Even the dying thief learned that. 

At last it was all finisheil. Jesus was dead, and 
his enemies could hurt him no more. Only his 
friends came and took his dead body away and 
laid it in a rocky grave in a garden. Then they 
rolled a great stone against the entrance of the 
cave and sorrowfully went away. 



CHAPTER XXXV 

HOW JESUS ROSE AGAIN 

The body of Jesus lay quietly in the tomb among 
the flowers of the garden. His enemies were 
glad to think that he was dead, but they were not 
quite satisfied yet. Jesus had once told them that 
even if they killed him, he would rise again alive 
in three days. They were afraid his disciples 
might come and steal away his body and pretend 
he was alive. So they set a company of soldiers 
to keep watch round the tomb, and to guard it 
that no one should roll the heavy stone away. 

But very early on the morning of the third 
day, while the soldiers were keeping their watch, 
a strange and frightening thing happened. Sud- 
denly the earth began to shake, heaven's gates 
were opened, and an angel came down and rolled 
away the great stone from the door of the tornb. 

The angel's face was so bright and shining that 
the eyes of the soldiers were blinded as they 
looked. They could only hide their faces, crouch- 



ing on the ground, trembling with fear. Then 
they turned and fled back to the city and told 
those wicked men what had happened. "Jesus is 
alive again," they said ; "the tomb is empty, and 
an angel has come down and rolled away the 
stone." 

But the wicked men persuaded the soldiers to 
keep all this a secret. They bade them pretend 
that they had fallen asleep, and that when they 
were asleep the friends of Jesus had come and 
stolen away his body. 

It did not matter what the soldiers said. Jesus 
was alive again, and very soon his friends would 
know the glad news. 

It was some women who came first to the tomb 
that early morning. They came to bring sweet 
herbs and spices to put on the body of Jesus. But 
as they came they remembered the great stone 
that was in front of the tomb, and they wondered 
how they could roll it away. 

It was still dark, and the faint morning light 
was only just beginning to dawn, so they were 
getting close to the tomb before they noticed that 
the stone was rolled away already. Some one 
must have been there before them. They hurried 
on, and bending down they looked in, then started 
back in fear and surprise. The tomb was empty; 
the body of Jesus no longer lay there. 

One of these women who had come so early 
was Mary Magdalene, that same Mary who had 
washed Jesus's feet and wiped them with her 
hair, she who had loved him so greatly. As soon 
as she saw the empty tomb she turned and ran 
back to the city to tell the disciples of Jesus that 
some one had taken his body away. 

The other women stood there looking sadly 
into the empty tomb and wondering where the 
body of Jesus could be. Suddenly, as they looked, 
they saw a shining angel sitting there, with robes 
as white as the glistening snow. The women 
were almost as frightened as the soldiers had 
been, and they too fell to the ground and hid 
their faces. But the angel spoke comforting 
words to them, and asked them why they were 
looking for Jesus's body when he was alive. "He 
is not here," said the angel. "He is risen, as he 
•said." 

Many glad messages had the angels brought to 
earth, but this perhaps was the gladdest message 
of all. The women's hearts were filled with joy. 
Jesus, their dear Master, was alive again; he had 
risen from the tomb. They must go quickly and 
tell all his friends the glad news. So leaving the 
empty tomb and the shining angel, they turned 
and hurried back to find his disciples. 

The next people who came to the garden were 
the two disciples Peter and John. As soon as 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LFl TFE CHILDREN 



201 



Mary had brought the news that Jesus's body 
was no longer in the tomb, they ran as quickly as 
they could to see for themselves, and Mary fol- 
lowed after them. Yes, it was exactl)' as she had 
said. The stone was rolled away and the tomb 
was empty. What could it mean? Was Jesus 
really alive again? Thev would go and find the 
other disciples and tell them what had happened. 

But j\lary could not leave the place. She stayed 
behind in the garden, and when thev were gone 
she crept close to the empty tomb, and there sat 
down and wept. She still thought that some one 
had stolen away her dear Master's body, and she 
could not bear the thought. 

Once again she stooped down and looked into 
the tomb, and this time she saw it was not empty, 
for two shining angels sat there. 

]\Iary was not frightened or surprised ; she 
could think of only one thing, her dear Lord's 
body was no longer there. 

"Woman, why weepest thou?" asked the angels 
kindly, and Mary answered at once. "Because 
they have taken away mv Lord, and I know not 
where they have laid him." 

Just then she turned to see who was standing 
close behind her, for some one there was asking 
her the same question. 

"Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest 
thou?" 

It was Jesus, the risen King, who stood there 
and spoke to her, but Mary did not know him. 
There was no longer any look of pain or sorrow 
or tiredness in his face, and that made him look 
different. Then, too, perhaps Mary's eyes were 
dim with weeping and she could not see very 
plainh-. 

She only saw a man standing there, and she 
thought he must be the gardener come to tend 
the flowers in the garden, so she said to him, "Sir, 
if thou hast taken him away, tell me wdiere thou 
hast laid him." 

Then very quietly Jesus said to her, "Mary." 

Ah, she knew that voice at once, and in a mo- 
ment she knew his face too. It was her Lord 
himself speaking to her. 

"Master!" she cried, as she knelt at his feet. 
She was too joyful to find other words; she only 
gave that one cry, "Master !" 



CHAPTER XXXVI 

HOW JESUS SHOWED HIMSELF TO HIS FRIENDS 

At Christmas time, when we keep the birthday 
of Jesus, it is cold, bleak winter with snow and 
ice, but when Easter comes, the day when he rose 
again, it is bright, happy springtime. Even the 



flowers remind us that Jesus is alive again. They 
too were hidden in the dark earth, but now tiiey 
spring up into life again in all their beauty. The 
bare branches of the trees that looked so dead 
put out little living green shoots to show they are 
alive. It is the time of the resurrection or com- 
ing to life again. 

It was in the afternoon of that first Easter day 
that two of Jesus's friends were walking sadly 
along a countr)' road, talking together. Thev did 
not notice the spring flowers or the song of the 
birds. They were so very, very sorrowful. They 
thought that Jesus was dead and that they would 
never see him on earth again. 

But as they \\'alked slowly along, a stranger 
came and walked Ijy their side, and asked them 
kindl)- why they were so sad. "Surely," they an- 
swered, "thou hast heard wdiat has just happened? 
^^'icke^l men have taken Jesus and killed him. 
We are his friends, and we thought he was a 
King and that God had sent him to make the 
world good. But now he is dead, and we are all 
alone." 

The stranger listened to their sorrowful words, 
and then lie began to talk to them. He told them 
it was all part of God's good plan; that unless 
Jesus had died he could not have saved people 
from punishment. He was indeed a King, but 
his kingdom was in heaven. 

The friends listened and began to understand. 
But they wanted to hear more. Just then they 
reached their home, and the stranger seemed as 
if he would go on and leave them. 

"Stay with us," the friends liotli cried together. 
"It is nearlv evening. Come in and rest." 

So the stranger went in, and in the cool of the 
evening, when the light was growing dim, tliey 
sat down together to supper. 

Then the stranger took the Ijread that was on 
the talde, and broke it, and gave it to the two 
friends. And suddenly, as he did this, thc\- knew 
that it was Jesus. But even as thc_\- stretched out 
their hands to him, too joyful to speak, he was 
gone, and they were alone. 

"How was it that we did not know him?" they 
asked one another. "No one but our Master 
could have spoken such comforting words." 

There was only one thing to be done, so they 
set off at once for the city to tell the disciples 
that they had seen Jesus. 

The disciples were sitting together that night 
in a room with locked door. They were still 
afraid of those wicked men. But they opened the 
door at once when the friends knocked and asked 
to be let in. 

The newcomers had no need to tell their tale. 
Before they could even begin, the joyful cry of 



202 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN 



the disciples reached their ears; "The Lord is 
risen, and has shown himself to Peter !" Yes, 
they too had heard the glad news, but they gath- 
ered round the two friends, eager to hear their 
story as well. 

And suddenly, while they were listening, they 
looked up, and there they saw Jesus standing 
quite close to them. 

For a moment they were terrified. They could 
not believe it was really Jesus. 

"Why are ye so frightened?" said Jesus to 
them, in the gentle voice they knew so well. "It 
is really I, your iMaster." 

Then he showed them the marks that the cruel 
nails had made in his hands and feet, and they 
knew this was indeed their King who had been 
nailed to the cross. 

Can you think how happy they were as Jesus 
sat down to supper with them, just as he used to 
do? All the sorrow and pain were over now. 
There were no more tears, only such gladness as 
they had never felt before. 

But one of the disciples, whose name was 
Thomas, was not there that night, and when the 
other disciples said to him, "We have seen Je- 
sus," he would not believe them. "How could it 
be Jesus?" he asked. "Jesus was dead. He had 
been nailed to the cross. Unless I see the marks 
of the nails in his hands and feet, and touch those 
marks, I will not believe," he said. 

But Jesus knew what Thomas was thinking. 
And so one night, when the disciples were all 
together in that room with the locked door, he 
came and stood in the midst of them again. 
"Peace be unto you," he said. Then he stretched 
out his hands toward Thomas to show him the 
marks of those cruel nails. 

"Thomas," he said, "see here are the marks in 
my hands. Put out your finger and touch them." 

But Thomas had no need to do that. He saw 
Jesus's face, he heard his voice. It was indeed 
his own dear Master. 

"My Lord and my God!" he cried. 

Jesus said to him: "Thomas, because thou hast 
seen, thou hast believed. It is far better to be- 
lieve without seeing." 

The next time Jesus came to his disciples was 
in the early morning by the seashore. The fisher- 
men disciples had taken their boat again and 
gone out fishing. All night they had been work- 
ing hard, but not a single fish had they caught. 

Then when the dawn began to break they 
turned their boat homeward and came wearily 
toward the land. 

There, on the shore, close to the water, Jesus 
was waiting for them, but they did not know 
that it was Jesus. 



He called to them as they came near, "Have ye 
caught any fish?" 

They answered, "No." 

Then Jesus said to them, "Try once more on 
the right side of the boat." 

And when they had let down their nets again, 
they caught so many fish that they could scarcely 
draw the nets up. 

Then John, the special friend of Jesus, guessed 
who it was, and whispered to Peter, "It is the 
Lord." 

The moment Peter heard that, he jumped into 
the water to go at once to Jesus. He could not 
sit still in the boat, he must reach the shore first. 

There indeed stood their dear Master, and a 
meal was spread there, all ready for the tired, 
hungry fishermen. Jesus always took such loving 
care of his disciple friends. A fire was burning 
there too, and so they brought some of the fish 
they had caught and cooked it. Then, with their 
Master close beside them, they all sat down to 
breakfast together. 



CHAPTER XXXVII 

HOW THE KING WENT BACK TO HEAVEN 

Jesus had finished his Father's work on earth, 
and now the angels were waiting to welcome him 
back to heaven. 

Yet for many days he waited still on earth, 
teaching those disciple friends he loved so well, 
and showing the people who loved him that their 
King was indeed alive. 

But the day of parting came at length. The 
disciples were in Jerusalem when Jesus came to 
them that last time. Together they, all left the 
city and went along the quiet country road they 
knew so well. They had so often climbed that 
hill together to the little village of Bethany. 

And there on the lonely hillside the disciple 
friends knelt at Jesus's feet, and he lifted up his 
hands and blessed them. And as he blessed thein, 
he was carried up into heaven and a bright cloud 
hid him from their sight. 

The King had gone back once more to sit on 
his throne at his Father's right hand. The shin- 
ing angels had opened the golden gates, and all 
heaven rang with songs of triumph to welcome 
back the King. 

But there on earth the little band of men still 
knelt, gazing up into the sky. Their Master had 
gone from them and they were left alone. He 
had told them that though they could not see him 
he would always be near them, but for a moment 
they forgot that. 



STORIES FROM THE LIFE OF JESUS FOR LFITLE CHILDREN 2U3 



Then suddenly, as they still looked so wistfully 
up into the sky, two angels stood beside them. 

"Why do you stand here looking upward so 
sorrowfully?" the angels asked. "Jesus has gone 
back to heaven, but some day he will come again, 
just as ye have seen him go." 

Yes, some dav the King will come hack to us 
again. Not as he came the first time, a little 
child born in a poor stable, but as the great King 
of heaven. And even now, although we cannot 
see him. he sees us, and loves us. and takes care 
of us. There, in heaven where he has gone, he 
is making ready a place for each of his children 
who love him and try to serve him. 



Yes, 
sus, w' 
might 



"And our e.ve,s M l.Tst sli.-ill sec him. 
Through his own rcdiiining love; 
For that child, so dc.ir .iiid gentle. 

Is our Lord in hca\cn ;i1)ovl- ; 
And he leads his children on 
To the place where he is gone. 



'Not in that poor lowly stable, 
With the oxen standing by, 

We shall see him. but in hea\'cn. 
Set at God's right hand on high.' 



we shall all see him, that kind, loving Je- 
10 came to live and suffer on earth, that we 
live with him forever in heaven. 




THE SOLITUDE OF JESUS. 
He departed thence by ship intu a desert place apart." — Matt. xiv. -:'., 



3a^«^«^®^3^^ ^ '^^r^^^ 



PRAYERS FOR CHILDREN 



Ct] 



THE LORD'S PRAYER 

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy 
name ; thy kingdom come ; thy will be done on 
earth as it is in heaven ; give us this day our daily 
bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we for- 
give those who trespass against us; and lead us 
not into temptation, but deliver us from evil; for 
thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the 
glory, forever and ever. Amen. 

SUNDAY MORNING 

Lord, my heavenly Father, who hast safely 
brought me to the beginning of this holy day; 
defend me in the same with thy mighty power, 
and grant that this day I fall into no sin, neither 
run into any kind of danger. May I remember 
the Sabbath day to keep it holy. May I love this 
day more than all others, because it is thine. May 

1 delight in the duties of thy house, and worship 
thee with a sincere and thankful heart. Help me 
in my efforts to do thy will, and to keep thy com- 
mandments ; and may I never forget that thou, 
God, seest me at all times. 

O Lord, bless my parents, and all my dear rela- 
tives and friends. Bless my beloved minister, my 
Sunday-school teacher, and the children of the 
Sunday-school. Oh may we all so improve the 
privileges which we enjoy, that we may at last 
enter into that rest which remains for the people 
of God. Pardon all my sins, O Lord, and hear 
my prayer, for the sake of thy Son Jesus Christ, 
my most blessed and precious Saviour. Amen. 

SUNDAY EVENING 

O Lord, my God, hear my prayer which I make 
before thee at the close of this sacred day; and 
accept my thanks for all thy mercies. 

Forgive me for every wicked thought that I 
have this day kept in my heart, for every wicked 
word that I have spoken, and for every wrong 
thing that I have done. Pardon all my sins, for 
Christ's sake; and help me to serve thee better in 



time to come. May I remember the good things 
I have heard and learned this day. May I love 
thy holy day more and more, and may I love more 
and more to worship thy holy name. And when 
all my days are ended, and I can no more go to 
thy house of prayer, oh may I be among the saints 
and angels that forever worship around thy 
throne. 

I thank thee, O Lord, for all thy goodness to 
me this day. All that I have is from thee, and 
wilt thou give me a grateful heart for every 
blessing. May thy mercies lead me to thyself, and 
may I show forth thy praise in doing thy com- 
mandments. 

Keep me, O Lord, in safety this night, and let 
me see the light of another day, for the love of 
thy Son, my Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen. 



MONDAY MORNING 

I THANK thee, O Lord, that I slept in safety last 
night, and that I am alive and in health this 
morning. Thou hast kindly raised me up, and 
given me strength for a new day. Bless me to- 
day, O Lord, wherever I may be; bless me in my 
studies and in my plays ; and keep me from doing 
anything that thou hast forbidden. Save me from 
sin and from every danger, and let me not forget 
that thine eye is upon me at all times. Help me 
to improve my time, and keep me from being 
disobedient to my parents and teachers. May I 
be kind to my companions, and respectful to all 
who are older than myself. And make me careful 
to do nothing that will offend thee and hurt my 
soul. 

Hear my prayer, I beseech thee, for the sake 
of thy dear Son, who loved me, and gave himself 
for me. Amen. 

MONDAY EVENING 

O Lord, I thank thee for having taken care of 
me this day, and I pray thee to forgive every- 
thing I have done to-day that has displeased thee. 



PRAYERS FOR CHILDREN 



205 



Give me thy grace that I may do wrong no more. 
Preserve me from all danger this night. When 
I lie down to rest may I remember thee; and wilt 
thou help me always to live in such a state that I 
may never be afraid or unprepared to die ; so that 
living and dying I may be thine, through the 
merits of Jesus Christ, my Saviour. Amen. 

TUESDAY ]\rORNING 

O God, my heavenly Father, may my first thoughts 
in the morning always be upon thee and th\' great 
goodness to me and to all thy children. May I 
remember that thou givest me my breath, and 
every comfort that I enjo\-; and mav I trv to do 
nothing this day which will displease such a kind 
and merciful Father. Direct me in all my doings 
with thy most gracious favor, and strengthen me 
with thy help, that in all my works, begun, con- 
tinued, and ended in thee, I may glorify thy holy 
name, and, finall)', by thy mercy, obtain everlast- 
ing life, through Jesus Christ, my Lord and Sa- 
viour. Amen. 



on earth have passed away, oh receive me unto 
thyself in glory everlasting. Amen. 

WEDNESDAY EVENING 

God, I bless thee for thy protecting care over 
me another day, and may I rest in safety this 
night under thy watchful eye. The darkness is 
no darkness to thee, and tlmu sccst me Ijy night 
as well as by day. Wilt thou keep me irum all 
danger, and permit me to see the morning light. 
Pardon my sins, O Lord, and give me grace to 
do thy will. Create and make in me a new and 
contrite heart; and help me to become like the 
holy child Jesus. Give me thy Holv Spirit, that 

1 may love to do what is right, and fear and hate 
everything that is wrong. May I trust in the 
Saviour and try every day to follow his blessed 
example. Bless my dear parents, ;nifl make me 
thankful to thee for such kind friends, and finally 
make us all a happy familv in thy heavenly king- 
dom, for the sake of Jesus Christ, my |)recious 
Redeemer. Amen. 



TUESD.-VY EVENING 

Almighty God, my heavenly Father, who hast 
kept me alive this day, and preserved me from 
danger, I pray thee to watch over me this night. 
Though I have sinned against thee so many times, 
do thou forgive me for my Saviour's sake, and 
keep me from doing wrong any more. May I 
grow better every day, and be more and more 
careful to avoid angry words, and a bad temper, 
and all disobedient actions. May I go to sleep 
this night with a happy and peaceful heart, and 
awake in the morning to thank thee for thy mer- 
cies. Bless my dear parents and friends, and 
make us all the followers of that Saviour who 
suffered and died that we might live forever. 
Amen. 

WEDNESDAY MORNING 

Almighty and most merciful Father, I come be- 
fore thee this morning to thank thee for thy 
goodness during the night, and to ask for thy 
blessing upon me this day. Direct me in all my 
ways, and be graciously pleased to take me, and 
all who are near and dear to me, under thy kind 
care and protection. Help me, O Lord, to give up 
all the sinful desires of my heart, and obediently 
to keep thy holy will and commandments, and 
walk in the same all the days of my life. May I 
be truly a member of Christ, a child of God, and 
an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven. May I 
love thee more and more; and when all my days 



THURSDAY MORNING 

Almighty God, Father of all mercies, I give thee 
most humble and hearty thanks for thy goodness 
and loving-kindness. I thank thee for my life 
and all its blessings. Above all, I thank thee for 
thy great love in the redemption of the world by 
thy dear Son ; and I pray thee that thy goodness 
to me may make me so thankful that I may walk 
before thee in holiness and righteousness all my 
days. Keep me this day without sin. Direct, 
sanctify, and govern both my heart and body in 
the ways of thy laws and in tb.c works of th\' 
commandments, that by thy care I may be pre- 
served in body and soul, and finally, bv thy mercy, 
(jbtain eternal life, through Jesus Christ, mv most 
blessed Lord and Saviour. Amen. 

THURSDAY EVENING 

O God, the Father of heaven, how gracious art 
thou to permit me to come before thee to ask 
those things which are needful, as well for the 
body as the soul ! I come now to pray for thy 
protection over me this night. Defend me frpm 
all dangers, and from the fear of them, that I 
may enjoy such sleep as luay fit me for the duties 
of another day. Make me ever mindful of the 
time when my life on earth must end, and grant 
me grace always to live in such a state that I 
may never be afraid to die. I thank thee for the 
mercies and benefits of the past day, and pray 
that thy goodness may lead me to be sorry for all 



206 



PRAYERS FOR CHILDREN 



my sins. I ask thy blessing upon my father and 
mother [brothers and sisters], and all my dear 
friends, and pray thee to make us thine, here and 
forever, for Christ's sake. Amen. 

FRIDAY MORNING 

Almighty and most merciful Father, I come to 
thee this morning, acknowledging that I have 
erred and strayed from thy ways like a lost sheep. 
I have followed too much the desires of my own 
heart. I have offended against thy holy laws. I 
have left undone those things which I ought to 
have done ; and I have done those things which I 
ought not to have done. But thou, O Lord, have 
mercy upon me. Spare thou me, O God, for I 
confess my faults; and grant, O most merciful 
Father, that I may hereafter live a godly, right- 
eous, and sober life, to the glory of thy holy name. 
Preserve me this day from all sin and danger, and 
finally receive me into that blessed world where 
sin shall no more be known, and where are sacred 
pleasures for evermore. Amen. 

FRIDAY EVENING 

O Lord, thy Son Jesus Christ has said, "Suffer 
little children to come unto me, and forbid them 
not"; and I come to implore the divine blessing 
upon me this night. May I love thee with all my 
heart, and keep all thy commandments. May thy 
grace be sufficient for me in every time of need. 
May I never be ashamed of Christ and his gos- 
pel, and may I manfully fight under his banner 
against sin, and continue his faithful soldier and 
servant unto my life's end. Receive me, O Lord, 
into the arms of thy mercy; give unto me the 
blessing of eternal life, and make me a partaker 
of thine everlasting kingdom. Pardon, O Lord, 
the sins of this day, and make me, and all who 
are near and dear to me, obedient to thy will, that 
we may be happy here and forever. Amen. 

SATURDAY MORNING 

O Lord, accept my thanks for keeping me alive 
through the darkness of the night, and for raising 
me up in safety this morning. Guard me this day 
from every evil, and let me not sin against thee. 
May I not waste my precious time, but try to 
improve every hour. Bless me in my studies, and 
in my plays; and make me obedient to my parents 
and teachers, and kind and affectionate to [my 
brothers and sisters and] all my companions. 
May I remember thee, my Creator, m the days of 
my childhood and youth. May I love the Saviour 
who died for me, and may the Holy Ghost ever 



dwell in my heart. O God, have mercy upon me 
when I sin against thee. Guide me, O Lord, this 
day, and all my life, by thy counsel, and after- 
ward receive me to glory, for Christ's sake. 
Amen. 

SATURDAY EVENING 

My Father and my God, I thank thee for having 
taken care of me another day and another week. 
I pray thee to forgive me all I have done that is 
wrong, and grant me thy grace, that I may do 
so no more. Keep me safe this night while I 
sleep, and permit me to see the light of thy holy 
day. May the close of the day and the week 
make me remember that the time will come when 
I shall lie down to sleep and wake on earth no 
more ; and wilt thou help me so to number my 
days that I may apply my heart unto wisdom. Oh, 
when life on earth for me is past may I enter 
that kingdom which endureth forever, and which 
Jesus has gone to prepare for all that love thee. 
Bless my dear friends, and make us all thy friends 
here, that we may enjoy thee forever. Bless all 
children and people that are poor and needy, and 
make me thankful for every comfort, for Christ's 
sake. Amen. 

CHRISTMAS DAY 

O God, I thank thee that I am permitted to see 
this joyful day. I thank thee that thou didst so 
love the world as to give thy beloved Son to be 
our Saviour; and I thank thee that I live in a 
land where that Saviour is known and worshiped. 
May I love the day that is kept in memory of his 
birth, and spend it to the honor of his name. 
Make this a happy season to my soul, by making 
me more and more like Jesus; and make it happy 
also for others through the spirit of love. Bless 
my parents, and all the dear family to which I 
belong. May I love them, and do all I can to 
make them happy. O Lord, bless those poor chil- 
dren and people in all lands who know nothing 
about Jesus Christ, and lead them to learn his 
blessed gospel. May the time soon come when all 
nations shall rejoice in thy salvation, and when 
the spirit and example of thy dear Son shall draw 
all human hearts to thee and bring mankind into 
the ways of love and peace. So may we all at 
last become one with Christ and with thee, our 
Father. Amen. 

NEW-YEAR'S DAY 

O Lord, whose days are without end, and whose 
mercies cannot be numbered, I thank thee for thy 
goodness in bringing me to the beginning of an- 



PRAYERS FOR CHILDREN 



207 



other year. Oh may I spend this year better than 
the last, so that at its end I may be so much 
nearer heaven. I thank thee for all the blessings 
that I enjoy; and I pray that all children and 
people that are suffering from hunger and the 
cold, may have food and raiment, and all the com- 
forts that they need. I pray for my dear parents 
and friends. May this be a happy year to us all ; 
and if any of us should die this year, oh wilt thou 
take us to thyself in that blessed world where 
there shall be no more death ; and thine shall be 
all the glory, through Jesus Christ, our Lord and 
Saviour, Amen. 

EASTER DAY 

Almighty God, I bless thee for thy great good- 
ness in permitting me again to see the return of 
this sacred day. I praise thee for the glorious 
rising from the grave of thy Son, my Saviour and 
Redeemer; and I pray that I may daily grow in 
righteousness, increasing in all virtue and godli- 
ness of living. Be with me in all the duties of 
this holy day, and fill my heart with love to thee 
for all thy mercies. Protect and guide me all 
along the journey of life; sustain and cheer me 
in the hour of death ; and finally may I have a 
joyful resurrection, and a place among the re- 
deemed. Amen. 

BIRTHDAY 

O God, my heavenly Father, thou hast kindly pro- 
longed my days, and added another year to my 
life; and I now pray thee to take me under thy 
care and protection for the time to come ; and 
grant that as I grow in age I may grow in grace, 
and in the knowledge of my Lord and Saviour, 
Jesus Christ; and when all my years are num- 
bered and finished, may I go to dwell with thee 
in thy kingdom and glory, for my Redeemer's 
sake. Amen. 

IN SICKNESS 

O God, it has pleased thee to visit me with sick- 
ness, and I pray thee to give me grace to bear it 
with patience. Make me well again, if it be thy 



blessed will. May I think how much my Saviour 
suffered, and l)c as submissive to thy will as he 
was. May I be able to say, as he did, "Not my 
will, but thine be done." May I be kept from 
being fretful and discontented; and may I be 
thankful to my dear friends who take care of me 
in my sickness. Bless them, O Lord, I pray thee, 
and reward them for their kindness. And oh wilt 
(boa take me under the shadow of thy wings, and 
make me ready, either to live longer in this world, 
or to go to my rest in heaven. Amen. 

THANKSGIVING 

FOR RECOVERY FROM SICKNESS 

Lord, I come before thee to thank thee for 
all thy tender care of me while I was sick, and for 
making me well again. It is by thy blessing that 

1 am restored to health ; and I now pray thee that 
the life which thou hast spared may be spent in 
thy service. Help me, O Lord, to seek thee early, 
and to walk in wisdom's pleasant ways. If I live 
to grow up, may I lead a useful life all my days, 
and be prepared for thy heavenly kingdom, that 
happy place where sorrow, sickness, and death 
are known no more ; and thine shall be the glory 
forever. Amen. 

AFTER THE DEATH OF A PARENT 

O Thou that hearest prayer, listen to my cry, in 
this my hour of sorrow. Thou, O God, hast been 
pleased to take from me my dear father [or 
mother], and to remove him [or her] to the world 
of spirits. Oh be with me in my affliction, and 
make it do me good. May I try more than ever 
before to be a good child, and to prepare for the 
world to come. Bless my kind parent that is left 
to me, and comfort her [or him] in this time of 
trouble. And oh, may we all remember that our 
time is short, and that we may soon go from this 
world. Be thou our God and guide, our friend 
and protector, and bring us all at last to thy hea- 
venly kingdom, for the sake of Jesus Christ, our 
Redeemer. Amen. 




208 



PRAYERS FOR CHILDREN 



epOD MORNINe 

p7ea:r4od,goo|dmormn|/I am glad 
To ^©G another happy day. 



I knov/^ that nothi^tl(g hard or c6ad 
will com.^ to talie vcyjfy away / 
I l5^aw th^t ^u pre hefe v/ithimue, 
Thepame ei^^Sfou were near all niOTife, 
AndYouwillhelpme, Q6d, to 6po 
The w^ to 0o, ajid wKat i^ ridnb. 

Tbde^/l^ Ksve- c^ome tmn66 Jbo do/ 
Please niaKe ine do iw veic!/ be^t: 

rielp me xk^ thii;iKdC otnerv^/toc;/ 

Whe] 

Andtlienpl( 

Please ^mile, deab dloi-v^eti 1 ju^t d^ 

5o whenni^t ciomiei^XA^/i^ done. 




PRAYERS FOR CHILDREN 



209 



a D DO a a 

DO □ a Q D 



IvONE^IT^ 



D D OD oa 
aa aa au 




^^^G6rl^ord,puchloneb/feelii\^ dome 
Into m/hea^rt. 1 m^"be Kon\e, 
Or out ^omewKere, or even plc5/ir\6. 
But Lord,tKe0e f eelirgp nvblie it ^een\ 
A^ if I were the ^orb oF dree^nv 
Tfibt i^ht c^ood.Thdf^wliyliT\pr<25>^r\6. 

I ^^^K'Yb\I,Lord,to nve^he n\e Olexd 

Inside oC rtve, ir^ted.d of ^5^. 

O^tblie siweg/ the^e tirrve^, for only 

I want to laudfi 5ivd like "the ^ur\, 

I w^nt to plqy M\d Ksve pon\e Purv. 

Pledge pt^/ witKnve-whetvI dm lonely 

^^ amBn. 




210 PRAYERS FOR CHILDREN 



■^7S]4od,tod^ I tKouOM: ^ome one 
M JHedinjuredme,j>oiK5vedoi\e 
V^Tbe^i to pey tK^t person. bs^cK. 
Ar\d rpw ny heart i? Ke^^rd 6i\d HqcI^. 
I iooKl^ev^ng'e, wKioK or^y led 
To bitterr\e33 e^d pedrv ^>I\d dree^d. 
Irdo my Keesrt I looK., t^rxd ?ee 
Arv \i^ly f iendv/^ex^ temptirid me. 

O^od J Kivow it we>^i\t riob^T^ 

I Know thed eVfei;y \^Y\(5e£u\ IKought 
AKo^t of evil Spirit ^ brgu^htr^ 
I Xj\o"w revgi\^e plt\n±0 ^eed^ ttet Orow 
Up intKehedvrt^to dra.^ it low. 
3o plee^^e.dod, $how n\ewhileIliVe 
TKo^t it i^ 6ravSr to rORdlVE.^^g^. 



PRAYERS FOR CHILDREN 



211 




^ MV HONOR Cp 

ez^r Qod,l pra^/yoMiea^ch me how 
To trust iry HONOR ever. 
And "tec^ch rme that exPromise irie^de 

Is broken, never,- r^even 
O^mt^Ke ir^/WoED of Honor meDcr\ 

Tht^i: l^ll stDo\d \inTnoviT\c|^ 
'MidworK or p\^, throuc^h cbre or pm, 
T^6teD<dCti.st HoMOR provinc^. 

O Qod,te5.chTne when I ejon^oMnig 

TKd^t HoNOK hves inside tne. 
So I mz^ ask MyHonor things 

And He will txlwe^/s <J^^ide me. 
True Honor Kevs a. crown oP ^old. 

His robes are rich ©nd royed, 
Hi5 throne is Outxrded in. ir^ Heexrt 

To Him ^ musi^e LOYAL. ^^^a:^E7sr. 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT 
TALKS 



FIRST DAY 



"God is love.' 



-I John iv. i6 



Tins is a very easy text to learn, only three short 
words. I think even the youngest child could re- 
peat it. 

Shall I try and (ell you a little ahout the great 
love of God ? 

Some of you know wdiat it is to have a kind 
father and fnother ; you understand a little what 
their love is for you. But God's love is far 
greater. He loved us so that he gave his only 
Son to die for us. A\'ill you try and imagine what 
his Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, did? He left his 
Father's beautiful home in heaven, where he was 
surrounded by angels who ministered to him, and 
obeyed his commands. He gave it all up ivilliiiglv 
to come and live on this earth, and be a little 
child, and grow up, and die a cruel death on the 
cross, so that we might live forever with him and 
his Father in heaven. It was only perfect love 
that could do this. 

"I am so glad that our Father in heaven 
Tells of his love in the Book he has given ; 
Wonderful things in the Bible I see. 
This is the dearest, that Jesus loves me. 

"Though I forget him. and waniler away. 
Still he doth hu-e me where\-er I stray; 
Back to his dear lo^dng arms do I flee. 
When I remember that Jesus loves me. 

"Oh ! if there's only one son.g I can sing. 
When in his beauty I see the gre.it King, 
This shall my song in eternity be: 
Oh ! what a wonder that Jesus lo\cs me !" 



SECOND DAY 

"Jesus called a little child unto him." — Matt. x\iii. 2 

\\'ouLD not you like to have been the little child 
the Lord Jesus Christ called to him? I can fancy 
how he ran when he saw the dear Lord holding 
out his loving arms to him, and calling him bv 



name, and how pleased he was to be set in the 
midst of the disciples, and to hear the gracious 
words that fell from the lips of Jesus. 

There was once a little boy who lived with an 
old priest, and one night while he was fast asleep 
in bed he heard some one call him by name, so 
he jumped up, and ran to the old man and said, 
"Here am I, for you called me," and the old man 
said, "I did not call you; go and lie down again." 
So he went back to bed. 

And presently he heard the voice again calling 
him, so he ran to the old man and said, "Here am 
I," but there was the same answer as before; and 
the third time he heard himself called, and he 
went once more to the old man, and then the 
priest knew it was God calling the little child, 
and he said, "If you hear the voice again, say, 
'Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.' " 

So he did exactly what he was told, and when 
he heard the voice once more, he said, "Speak, for 
thy servant heareth." This little boy's name was 
Samuel, and he grew up to be a great and good 
man. 

Jesus even now is calling the little ones to him. 
We cannot hear his voice as we hear the voices 
of people round about us, but he speaks in his 
Book, the Bible. 

He says, "Suffer the little children to come 
unto me." 

"I think when I read that sweet story of old. 
When Jesus was here among men. 
How he called little children as lambs to his fold, 

I should like to have been with him then. 
I wish that his hands had been placed on my head. 

That his arms had been thrown around me. 
And that I might have seen his kind look when he said, 
'Let the little ones come unto me.' 



"Yet still to his footstool in prayer I may go, 

And ask for a share of his love ; 
And if I thus earnestly seek him below, 

I shall see him and hear him above. 
In that beautiful place he has gone to prepare 

For all who are washed and forgiven ; 
And many dear children are gathering there, 

For 'of such is the kingdom of heaven.' " 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT TALKS 



213 



THIRD DAY 

"Ask, and it shall be given you." — Luke xi. 9 

Jesus told his disciples to ask in prayer for what 
they wanted, and it should be given them, and we 
may do the same. 

Our prayers are not answered just as we would 
like them to be, but I am afraid we do not always 
ask for things that would be good for us. 

It is quite certain God always hears our prayers 
when we pray from our hearts. Of course wc 
may say a great deal in our prayers and be think- 
ing all the time of something else, but that is not 
praying, and we could not expect such requests to 
be answered. To pray rightly is to ask God, and 
believe that he hears and will answer us; perhaps 
not exactly as we would like it ; for he is an all- 
wise God and Father, and often sends us some- 
thing much better than we asked for. 

I knew a little bo_\' who was such a long time 
saying his prayers one night that his auntie asked 
what he had been saying. At first he did not 
like to tell her, but after a little persuasion he 
said : "I can't help being long over my prayers, 
because I have to think over all I have done to- 
day, and ask God to forgive all I have done 
wrong, and if I have done an\-thing pleasing to 
him, I ask him to bless it, and then I have to ask 
him for the things I want to-morrow." His auntie 
said, "What have you asked him to give you?" 
At first the little boy did not like to answer ; then 
he said, "One of the things is, I want to ride on 
the pony to-morrow," and his aunt said, "Do you 
think 3-our prayer will be answered, dear?" The 
boy's face looked so eager and bright, and he said, 
"Sometimes God does not give me exactly what 
I ask for, but he always sends me something much 
better instead." 

I think that is how God answers prayer. We 
do not know sometimes what we ask, but God 
gives what is best for us, and I believe when we 
get home to heaven, and see all the way he has 
led us down here, we shall bless him for denying 
our requests, and giving what was far better for 
us. 

"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, 
Look upon a little child ; 
Pity my simplicity. 
Suffer me to come to thee. 

"Fain I would to thee be brought; 
Gracious God, forbid it not ; 
In the kingdom of thy grace 
Grant a little child a place. 

"Oh supply my every want. 
Feed a young and tender plant, 
Day and night my keeper be. 
Every moment watch o'er me." 



FOURTH DAY 

"I am the good shepherd." — John x. 14 

Would not you like to be one of our Saviour's 
lambs? He says, "I am the good shepherd, and 
know my sheep." It is so nice to feci that Jesus 
k)iows us. 

The shepherds who live in Palestine, the coun- 
tr_\- where Jesus lived, are very different from 
some other shepherds; they are kinder to their 
sheep, and instead of driving them in front of 
them, they go before them, and the sheep follow 
them, and they call them each by name. The 
sheep know the voice of the shepherd, and. will 
run to him. The shepherd loves his sheep, and 
will give his life for them, li a wild animal 
comes to the flock, he will protect them, and some- 
times will get killed himself. 

Davirl was a shepherd before he became King 
of Israel, and while he was taking care of his 
father's sheep there came a lion and a bear, and 
took a lamb out of the flock, and David went after 
them and caught them and killed them both. If 
we belong to the Good Shepherd, he will take 
great care of us; if we wander from him, he will 
come after us and find us. He savs, "I give unto 
them eternal life, and they shall never perish." 
So we shall be quite safe now and forever. 

"Jesus is our Shepherd, wiping e\ery tear : 
Folded in his bosom, what ha\-e we to fear? 
Only let us follow whither he doth lead. 
To the thirsty desert or the dewy mead. 

"Jesus is our Shepher<J ; well we know his voice. 
How its gentlest whisper makes our hearts rejoice. 
Even when he chideth, tender is its tone. 
None but he shall guide us ; we are his alone. 

"Jesus is our Shepherd ; for the sheep he bled ; 
E\ery lamb is sprinkled with the blood he shed ; 
Then on each he setteth his own secret sign ; 
They that ha\e my spirit, these, saith he, 'are mine.' " 



FIFTH DAY 

"It is I ; be not afraid." — John \i. 20 

We all know what it is to be afraid. Sometimes 
when we awake in the night, to find ourselves 
alone in the dark, we are afraid; then perhaps a 
little voice calls out in terror, "Mother!" and 
mother's loving voice answers, "What is the 
matter, darling? I am here." When we hear 
mother's voice all the fear goes quite away, and 
we fee! happy and safe, because we know she is 
beside us. But supposing mother had gone away, 
and could not come to us, what should we do? 

Why, just remember that Jesus never slumbers 
nor sleeps, that his loving eyes are always on us, 



214 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT TALKS 



and although we cannot see him, we know he is 
near us. He never leaves nor forsakes us. So 
all we have to do is to rest contented that he is 
here, and will not let anything hurt us. 

One evening Jesus's disciples went down to the 
sea, and entered into a ship, and went over the 
water to a place called Capernaum. Jesus was 
not with them; he had gone alone to a mountain 
to pray. 

When it grew quite dark there arose a storm 
on the sea. The wind blew very hard, so that it 
was difficult to row, and while they were toiling 
they saw some one walking on the sea. 

The disciples were frightened and thought it 
must be a spirit, and they cried out with fear, 
but directly came the voice of Jesus saying, "It is 
I ; be not afraid." 

He got into the ship with them, and the wind 
grew calm, and the waves were still, and the dis- 
ciples were so happy again, knowing that all was 
well when they had their dear Master with them. 

"Thy way is in the deep, O Lord ! 
E'en there we 'U go with thee : 
We '11 meet the tempest at thy word, 
And walk upon the sea. 

"Poor tremblers at his rougher wind, 
Why do we doubt him so ? 
Who gives the storm a path, will find 
The way our feet shall go. 

"A moment may his hand be lost. 
Drear moment of delay ! 
We cry, 'Lord, keep the tempest-tost,' 
And safe we 're borne away. 

"The Lord yields nothing to our fears, 
And flies from selfish care ; 
But comes himself, where'er he hears 
The voice of loving prayer." 



SIXTH DAY 

"Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart." 
— Matt. xi. 29 

We all have to learn, and we are always learning 
something all our lives. It is not only at school, 
but when we get older we learn more than we did 
at school. Jesus says, "Learn of me." What have 
we learned of him? Obedience. We read in the 
Bible that he was subject to his parents, but above 
all he obeyed his father in everything. We are 
told, "He became obedient unto death, even the 
death of the cross." 

Then he was sweet-tempered. No one ever saw 
him cross or unkind. Only gracious words pro- 
ceeded out of his mouth. He was always ready to 
help and comfort the sorrowing. He had com- 
passion on the people who came to listen to him. 



When they were hungry he fed them. There are 
many ways we may learn of Jesus ; we can pray 
to God, we may be loving and gentle to those 
around us, even if they do not care for us — for- 
giving one another. We may help the sick, if by 
only saying a kind word. And we can comfort 
those who are in trouble. The very smallest child 
can do that ; no one knows how many troubles 
have been lightened by little clinging arms round 
one's neck, and loving kisses on the wet cheek, 
and a small voice saying, "Don't cry, I love you I" 

"Christ, he is our childhood's pattern, 

Day by day like us he grew. 
He was little, weak, and helpless, 

Tears and smiles like us he knew ; 
And he feeleth for our sadness, 
And he shareth in our gladness. 

"And our eyes at last shall see him. 
Through his own redeeming love, 

For this Christ so dear and gentle 
Is our Lord in heaven above ; 

And he leads his children on 

To the place where he is gone." 



SEVENTH DAY 



'Weep not." — Luke 



vu. 13 



We are told in the Bible of a poor widow who 
lived in a city called Nain. Her only son had 
just died, and she and her friends were taking 
him to be buried. When the funeral procession 
came outside the gate of the city, they met Jesus 
with his disciples, and many others following. As 
soon as Jesus saw the poor mother, he was sorry 
for her and said to her, "Weep not," and then he 
went up to her dead son, and stopped the bearers 
who were carrying the body, and said, "Young 
man, I say unto thee arise !" Directly he that was 
dead sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave 
him to his mother. How glad she must have 
been ; and how she must have loved Jesus for his 
great goodness to her in giving back her son. 

Jesus is just as ready now to help and comfort 
those who are in sorrow. 

Little children have their troubles; many are 
caused by their own naughtiness, but some they 
cannot help. God sometimes sends us sorrow just 
to draw us nearer to him. He says, "As one whom 
his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you." 
How good he is to us ! He cares for even the 
smallest child and is always willing to help him. 

"Jesus, who lived above the sky. 
Came down to be a man and die ; 
And in the Bible we may see 
How very good he used to be. 



MOTHER'S GOO'^-NIGHT TALKS 



215 



"He went about, he was so kind, 
To cure poor people who were blind ; 
And many who were sick and lame. 
He pitied them and did the same. 

"And more than that, he told them too 
The things that God would ha\'e them do ; 
And was so gentle and so mild 
He would ha\'e listen'd to a child." 



EIGHTH DAY 

"I will arise and go to my father." — Luke xv. i8 

Jesus told the people who came to him about a 
man who had two sons. 

The 3'ounger one asked his father one day for 
a portion of his money. And when his father 
had given it to him, he left his home, and went 
away to a far country, and wasted all his money 
in living wickedly. He became at last so poor 
that he had to go to work feeding and minding 
some pigs, and he was so hungry that he could 
have eaten some of the pigs' food, but nobody 
cared enough about him to give him even that ! 

Then one day he thought of his father, and of 
all the good things he had left; so he made up his 
mind to go home, ask his father's forgiveness, 
and saj' he was no more worthy to be called his 
son, but would be willing to take the place of one 
of the servants. 

When he came near to the house his father 
saw him, and ran out to meet him, and fell on his 
neck and kissed him. Then the father made a 
feast for his son, who had been lost and now was 
found. 

He was so pleased to have him back again, and 
quite forgave him, even before his son had time 
to tell him how sorry he was for being so wicked. 

That is the way our heavenly Father forgives 
us. He is so glad to have us ask for forgiveness. 
You know when you have done wrong how nice 
it is after mother has forgiven you, how happy 
you feel to get her loving kisses once more ; and 
it is just as much joy to mother to know you are 
sorry for having done wrong. 

But it is much more to our heavenly Father to 
have one of his little ones seek his forgiveness. 

*T love to hear the story 

Which angel voices tell, 
How once the King of glory 

Came down on earth to dwell. 
I am both weak and sinful. 

But this I surely know. 
The Lord came down to save me. 

Because he loved me so. 

"I'm glad my blessed Saviour 
Was once a child like me. 
To show how pure and holy 
His little ones might be ; 



And if I try to follow 

His footsteps here below. 

He never will forget me. 
Because he loves me so." 



NINTH DAY 



"Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command 
you." — John xv. 14 

How very pleased we feel when people ask us to 
be their friend ! 

We long to do all sorts of things to show our 
love and friendship for them. It is so nice to tell 
all our little joys and sorrows to our friend, and 
feel he likes to hear them. 

If we are to be true friends, we must be un- 
selfish. We must love others not for what we 
may receive, but for what we may give. Jesus 
says, "Ye are my friends." What an honor to 
have such a friend! 

He takes us as we are with all our sins and 
faults. There are many things in our lives we 
may not even have told to father or mother, yet 
Jesus knows them all. Nothing is hidden from 
his eves, but we need not be afraid his friendship 
will change, for he loves us, and will love us all 
through our lives. 

We are told in the Old Testament of a great 
friendship between two men — Jonathan and Da- 
vid. 

Jonathan saved David's life, when Saul the 
King was seeking to kill him, and they entered into 
a solemn covenant with each other to remain firm 
friends as long as they lived, and David promised 
to show kindness to Jonathan and his children 
when he should be made King of Israel. You 
can read this story in I Samuel xx. 

"There's a Friend for little children 

Above the bright blue sky ; 
A Friend who never changeth. 

Whose love can never die. 
Unlike our friends by nature. 

Who change with changing years, 
This Friend is always worthy 

The precious name he bears. 

"There's a home for little children 

Above the bright blue sky. 
Where Jesus reigns in glory, 

A home of peace and joy; 
No home on earth is like it. 

Nor can with it compare. 
For every one is happy. 

Nor can be happier there." 



TENTH DAY 

"A ne'w commandment I give unto you, that ye love one 
another." — John xiii. 34 

When Jesus spoke these words to his disciples 
they had just finished their last supper with him. 













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O MOTHER! TEACH THIS CHILD OF THINE 
THE WORDS OF TRUTH AND LOVE DIVINE. 



^t& 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT TALKS 



217 



before he Nas taken to be crucifiecl. He told 
them that all men should know they were his 
disciples if the}' loved one another. 

If boys and girls are unselfish and glad to give 
up things they like for one another, and are ge;i- 
tle, kind, and loving to those about them, the)' arc 
following in the footsteps of the Saviour and 
obeying his command. 

Archbishop Usher, being once on a visit to Scot- 
land, heard a great deal about the goodness and 
piety of I\Ir. Samuel Rutherford. He wished to 
know if all he had heard was true, so he dressed 
himself as a very poor man, and ^\■ent to Ruther- 
ford's house one Saturdav evening, and asked if 
they would take him in for the night. Mr. Ruth- 
erford consented, and told him to sit in the 
kitchen until bedtime. According to custom, Mrs. 
Rutherford called her servants together to read 
and talk with them at the close of the day. Turn- 
ing to the poor man, she asked him how many 
commandments there were. He replied, "Eleven." 
On receiving this answer she said: "What a 
shame is it for you ! a man with gray hairs, in a 
Christian country-, not to know Iiow many com- 
mandments there are!" By the next day Mr. 
Rutherford discovered who their ^-isitor was, and 
asked him to preach for him, which he consented 
to do, on condition Mr. Rutherford would not tell 
any one about it. Mr. Rutherford lent the arch- 
bishop a suit of his clothes, and took him to 
church, telling the people a stranger would preach 
that day. He chose for his text, "A new com- 
mandment I give unto you, that ye love one an- 
other." In the course of his sermon he said that 
this might be reckoned the eleventh command- 
ment. Mrs. Rutherford, who was there, said to 
herself: "That is the answer the poor man ga\-e 
me last night. It cannot be possible that this is 
he!" After the service the archbishop and i\Ir. 
Rutherford enjoyed a nice talk together, and the 
following morning the former went away in the 
dress in which he came, and was not discovered. 

"One there is above .-ill others. 

Oh ! how ne ]o\'es ! 

His is love beyond a brother's. 

Oh ! how he loves ! 

Earthly friends may fail or lea\'e us. 

One day soothe, the next day f,'rieve us ; 

But this Friend will ne'er deceive us, 

Oh I how he loves !" 



ELEVENTH DAY 

"Seek, and ye shall find." — Luke xi. 9 

Our Saviour often spoke to the people in parables 
— earthly stories with heavenly meanings — be- 



cause they could then imdcrstand better what he 
wanted to teach them. 

"Seeking" and "finding" arc several times 
spoken of in the liiblc. 

Jesus said if a man anmng them had a hundred 
sheep, and if he lost one, would he not leave the 
ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go after the 
one which was lost until he fotmd it? And when 
he had found it, he would lay it on his shoulders 
and bring it home, and say to his friends, "Re- 
joice with me, for I liave found my sheep which 
was lost." 

If a woman lost a piece of silver belonging to 
her necklet, which it was tlie custom of women 
to wear in those days, would she not light a can- 
dle and sweep the house, and seek until she found 
it? 

Jesus said: "Likewise, I say unto you, there is 
joy in the presence of the angels of God over one 
sinner that rcpenteth." 

I read once of a little girl who was verv poor. 
Her father and mother were dead, and the wo- 
man with whom she li\-ed did not care for her. 
The child was not sent to school, Init made to go 
out e\'ery da)' and sell matches. She had never 
heard of Jesus nor of heaven. 

But one day while she was standing at the cor- 
ner of a street, she heard a man talking to a num- 
ber of people who were round him. She could 
not understand all he was sa}'ing, but he men- 
tioned some line whose name was Jesus, who 
said, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are 
hcav)' laden, and I will ,£,o've you rest." She 
thou,ght, "I wish I could find him, that is just 
wdiat I want— rt\9/." For the poor little thing 
was very tired. Then she listened and heard 
that this Jesus would forgive people all their 
sins, and take them to a beautiful place called 
heaven. 

A policeman came up just then, and she moved 
awa}'. But all that da\' she kept on wishing she 
coulrl find Jesus, anrl ask him to take her to 
heaven. So she walked on and on, till she came 
to a large building; the door was open, and she 
peeped in, and saw a lot of people and children. 
They were singing and looked so happy. Pres- 
ently the little girl went inside, and stood near 
the door. There in the far distance she saw a 
gentleman dressed in white, talking to the chil- 
dren, and she thought she had at last found the 
place and the One she had been seeking. She 
ran right up to the gentleman and said, "Please, 
are you Jesus, and is this heaven? I have been 
looking for you all day." The gentleman smiled 
and said, "No, dear, I am not Jesus, but only one 
of his ministers." And then he led her away to a 
little room, and told her about the Lord Jesus 



218 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT TALKS 



Christ, and so she became one of Christ's Httle 
ones. 

"Tenderly the shepherd 
O'er the mountains cold, 
Goes to bring his lost one 
Back to the fold. 

"Patiently the owner 
Seeks, with earnest care, 
In the dusk and darkness. 
Her treasures rare. 

"Lovingly the Father 
Sends the news around, 
'He once dead, now liveth — 
Once lost, is found.' " 



TWELFTH DAY 

"Wash and be clean." — ii. Kings v. 13 

Little children all know what it is to be dirty, 
and I really think some like it! Boys especially 
think it a dreadful trouble to wash their hands; 
they make all sorts of excuses why they should 
not do it, and much prefer to be dirty. But this 
is not the kind of washing I wish to speak about 
to-day. 

In the East leprosy was, and is now, a common 
disease. 

Naaman, captain of the host of the King of 
Syria, was a leper. His wife had a little Israel- 
itish maid who told her mistress of the wonderful 
things which the prophet Elisha did, and she felt 
sure he could cure her master. The King of Syria 
was told what the maid had said, and he sent a 
letter to the King of Israel asking him to cure 
Naaman. 

But the King of Israel was perplexed and 
thought the King of Syria wanted to quarrel with 
him, for he knew he could not cure leprosy. 
When Elisha heard of it, he sent for Naaman. 
So Naaman went with his chariots and horses, 
and stood at Elisha's door. The prophet did not 
even come out to him, but sent a message saying: 
"Go and wash in Jordan seven times, and thy 
flesh shall come again to thee, and thou shalt be 
clean." 

But Naaman was angry, and went away in a 
rage, because he thought that Elisha would come 
out and touch him, and he would be cured ; and 
he said: "Are not the rivers of Damascus better 
than all the waters of Israel? May I not wash 
in them and be clean?" But his servants per- 
suaded him to do what the prophet had said. 

So he went and dipped seven times in Jordan, 
and his flesh came again Hke the flesh of a little 
child. He was cured. His leprosy had all gone. 

Thus you see through a little captive girl's 
faith in God's power this great captain was made 



well, but what was still more precious he learned 
to believe in the little maiden's God, and to leave 
off worshiping idols. 

"She saw her master's leprous form, 
- And longed to see him well ; 
And bade him seek the help of God, 
The God of Israel. • 

"Her master heard the wondrous news, 
And soon to Israel sped ; 
He washed in Jordan'3 stream, and lo t 
The leprosy had fled ! 

"So thus we see a little heart, 
When full of gentle love, 
May always find some good to do. 
Some evil to remove." 



THIRTEENTH DAY 

"God lo\'eth a cheerful giver." — 11. Cor. ix. 7 

We all know what God gave. He gave the rich- 
est and most precious gift he had — his only Son. 
You know when your birthday comes, how 
pleased and excited you feel at receiving presents 
from father and mother and your little friends, 
and when their birthdays are coming what a de- 
light it is to think of something you know they 
will like, and if you have been able to get the 
longed-for present ready, you feel you can hardly 
wait to give it to them, it seems so long until 
to-morrow. But at last the day comes, and the 
joy is greater, I am sure, on your part to give 
than it is for them to receive. 

But what can we give to God, who has given 
so much to us? 

Jesus told his disciples, "Ye have the poor al- 
ways with you." So we can try and help them, 
if it is in ever such a little humble way. Instead 
of spending all the pennies which are given to us 
on sweets or toys, we could save them, and buy 
a nice little dinner for some poor children. Think 
what joy it would be to you to see the delight of 
some half-starved little ones eating the dinner 
you had been able to give them. 

I knew two boys whose mother gave them each 
a penny a week. They used to save half of it, 
and put it in a box, which they called "The Lord's 
Box," because it was only to be spent for the 
poor. 

At supper, they were allowed a certain number 
of biscuits, half of which they put in a tin, and 
saved them up until they had a nice quantity. 
Then they sent them to some poor children to 
whom they were a great treat. Do you not think 
those boys were far happier than if they had 
spent all their pennies and eaten all their biscuits 
themselves? 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NICHT TALKS 



219 



"O Lord of henven and earth and sea. 
To thee all praise and plory be. 
How shall we show our love to thee, 
Giver of all ? 

"For peaceful homes and healthful days 
For all the blessings earth displays. 
We owe thee thankfulness and praise, 
Giver of all. 

"We lose what on ourselves we spend, 
We have as treasure without end. 
Whatever, Lord, to thee we lend, 
^^'ho givest all." 



FOURTEENTH DAY 

"Is it well with the child? It is well." — 
II. Kings i\'. 26 

In this chapter we are told of a good and great 
woman who hved at Shunem. 

Elisha, the prophet, often passed her house in 
his journeys through the country, and she used to 
ask him to come in and eat bread with her and 
her husband, or, as we should say, partake of a 
meal. One day, the thought came to her that she 
would have a little room built for the prophet, 
and furnish it with a bed, a table, a stool, and a 
candlestick, so that he could go and stay there 
whenever he liked. 

Some time after this God gave her a little son. 
How she loved him ! and as he grew up how 
carefully she must have watched over him. 

But a sad time came. The golden corn in the 
fields was ready for reaping, for the harvest had 
come; and the little boy went out with his father 
to the reapers in the heat of the day. Suddenly 
he felt a pain, and cried out, "My head, my head !" 

His father saw the child was ill, and told a ser- 
vant to carry him to his mother. She took him 
on her lap, and he lay there till noon, when he 
died. 

Then she carried him to the prophet's room 
and laid him on the bed. She left him and told 
her servant to saddle an ass and go with her to 
the house of the prophet Elisha. Elisha saw her 
coming, and sent his servant to inquire if all was 
well. "Is it well with the child?" And she an- 
swered, "It is well." But when she came to Eli- 
sha she fell down at his feet and told him all her 
sorrow. 

Then he sent his servant Gehazi with his staff 
and told him to lay it upon the dead child. But 
the mother would not return unless Elisha went 
with her, so he went and found the dead boy ly- 
ing on his bed, and prayed to God that the life 
might be restored. God heard his servant's 
prayer. The boy came to life again, and the 



prophet had the joy of giving him back to his 
mother alive and well. 

Is it well with you, dear little child? If you 
love the Lord Jesus Christ, whether you live or 
die, it is well. You belong to him, so no harm 
can come to you. If you should die to-night, it 
will only be going to our Father's home above, 
where all is light and joy and love, to dwell with 
him forever. 

"Around the throne of God in heaven 
Thousands of children stand. 
Children whose sins arc all forgiven, 
A holy, happy band. 
Singing glory, glory, glory. 

"On earth they sought their Saviour's grace, 
On earth they loved his name ; 
So now they see his blessed face. 

And stand before the Lamb ; 
Singing glory, glory, glory." 



FIFTEENTH DAY 

"A soft answer turneth away wrath. "- 



-Prov. 



A GREAT many children do not believe this ; they 
think when some one says anything unkind to 
them the best way to answer is to say something 
more unkind and spiteful. 

But that is not right. If any one says a rude 
or angry word to you, and you answer in the 
same way, you are helping to make a bad thing 
worse. But if you give a kind answer to angry 
words, you are doing what Jesus did. We read, 
"When he was reviled, he reviled not again." 

I know it is easier to say the angry word, but 
if you would just wait a moment, and ask God to 
help you to say the right thing, or be silent, I am 
sure he would help you. Afterward, when you 
no longer feel angry, you would be so pleased to 
think that no unkind word had escaped your lips, 
so you would have joy in your heart instead of 
regret. 

We read in the Old Testament of the disobedi- 
ence of Balaam, who was going to a country 
where he was told not to go, and God sent his 
angel to stop him in the way. He was riding on 
an ass, and the ass saw the angel, but Balaam did 
not; and he beat the poor animal, and did all he 
could to urge her on, but the ass turned aside, for 
the angel had a drawn sword in his hand. Pres- 
ently God made the dumb animal to speak, and 
she gently asked Balaam what she had done that 
he had beaten her three times. Balaam was very 
angry with the ass, but God opened his eyes then, 
and he saw the angel. So we see that the patient 
rebuke of this poor donkey changed the anger of 
Balaam into thanksgiving, and that God by the 



220 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT TALKS 



wisdom of this ass delivered him from the sword 
of the angel and so saved his hfc. 

"When det-p within our swelling hearts 
The thoughts of pride and anger rise, 
When bitter words are on our tongues. 
And tears of passion in our eyes ; 

"Then we may stay the angry blow, 

Then we may check the hasty word, 
Give gentle answers back again, 
And fight a battle for our Lord." 



SIXTEENTH DAY 

"Let your lit^ht so shine befcire men." — Matt. v. I 6 

Home is the place where we oug-ht to shine our 
best. It is where God has put us, and wdiere he 
expects us to shine brightest. 

There may be a Httle girl in a home, who is not 
lieautiful or clever, but the other children in the 
house love her, because she is always willing to 
help them or play with them. 

She mends their broken tovs, and helps to make 
their dolls' dresses; when there is an_y quarreling 
she is the one to try to put it all right ; or if any- 
thing is wanted, she is first to offer to go and 
fetch it, and the quickest to return with it. 

Her face is always bright with love shining on 
it, and if sorrow conies the children all turn to 
her for sympathy. Have you, dear, such a sister 
in your home? If )'0u have, you cannot love and 
value her too much. 

But we can all try to shine. There is room for 
many bright ones in every home, and if we are 
doing the very best we can, and leaning on Jesus 
for help in the difficulties that are sure to come, 
perhaps, some day, the place for our shining will 
grow larger, because our light will have grown 
stronger and brighter. 

I heard of a gentleman who had a very sweet 
and winning face, and he went one day to see a 
poor sick boy. Afterwaril some one asked the 
boy wdiat the gentleman said to him, and he re- 
plied, "He did not say anything, he just beamed 
on me !" 

"Jesus bids us shine with a pure clear light, 
Like a little candle burning in the night ; 
In this world of darkness, we must shine — 
You in your small corner, and I in mine. 

"Jesus bids us shine first of all for him. 
Well he sees and knows it, if our light is dim. 
He looks down from heaven, to see us shine— 
You in your small corner, and I in mine." 

SEVENTEENTH DAY 

"Be strong and of a good courage." — Joshua i. 6 

These words were first spoken to Joshua, the 
leader of the army of Israel, when he was stand- 



ing on the brink of Jordan, and about to cross 
over and conquer Canaan. 

When God gave these words to him, he re- 
peated them lliree times. Perhaps Joshua felt 
weak, and was afraid he would never be able to 
take Canaan. God cheered his heart with, "Be 
strong and of a good courage." 

We need such words too, because we have bat- 
tles to fight, and temptations to overcome, but if 
Jesus is with us, he will make us strong and 
courageous. He knows all the dangers there are 
before us, everything which the future has in 
store for us. Our enemies may be strong, but no 
power can stand against us if he is on our side. 

Perhaps some of us would not like to go into 
a dark room, but if father held our hand we 
should not be in the least afraid. So if we be- 
lieve that Christ loves us, and knows all that is 
before us, wdiat have we to fear? Who can 
harm us ? 

There is a story told of one of England's great- 
est heroes — General Gordon. Every morning 
durmg his journey in the Soudan, he would go 
into his tent for half an hour, and that nobody 
should disturb him he put a handkerchief outside 
the tent. 

No one dared to enter the tent wdiile this hand- 
kerchief laj' there. Everj- one in the camp knew 
that God and Gordon were alone together. 

It was there that strength and courage were 
given to this man, and he was able to go forth 
from his tent, filled with the peace that only God 
could give him. 

"Oft in danger, oft in woe, 
(Jnward, Christians, onward go ; 
Fight the fight, maintain the strife. 
Strengthened with the bread of life. 

"Let not sorrow dim your eye. 
Soon shall every tear be dry ; 
Let not fears your course impede. 
Great your strength, if great your need. 

"Onward then in battle move, 
More than conquerors }'e shall prove ; 
Though opposed by many a foe. 
Christian soldiers, onward go." 



EIGHTEENTH DAY 

"Consider the lilies of the field." — Matt. vi. 28 

When Jesus said these words he was talking to 
his disciples on the Mount of Olives. He was 
trying to teach them how God cares for their 
needs, and saw they were careful and troubled 
about their daily wants, and to make them under- 
stand more clearly, he turned and pointed to the 
lilies of the field which grew in great plenty and 
beauty around them. 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT TALKS 



221 



Jesus did not direct his hearers to the lilies or 
flowers which grew in the gardens and received 
the care of tlie gardener, hut to those of tlie field, 
which grew wild without any of man's care or 
attention. He would have them think how tlu'v 
grczv, their different beautiful colors, their sweet 
scents ; and yet they have no strength to toil, no 
skill to spin. God does it all. Jesus said "that 
even Solomon in all his glorv was not arrayed 
like one of these." Solomon was the richest and 
most magnificent of all the kings of Israel, yet 
when he was dresseil in his royal and priceless 
robes, with his crown on his head, he could not 
be compareil for heautv to a little wayside tlowcr. 

Solomon's magnificence was made bv human 
hands, but God made the lily. If he takes such 
care of the flo\\-crs, will he not nnich more take 
care of his little ones? Jesus sa\'s "even the 
hairs of your head are all numbered." What won- 
derful love he bestows on us ! lie clothes us, 
feeds us, warms us ; he is always with us, watch- 
ing over us by night and by day. There was once 
a lily which grew in a neglected part of an old 
garden ; no one saw it grow, no one seemed to 
care for it. The poor lilv sighed, and said to it- 
self, "I am of no use in the world, m)' beauty and 
mv sweet scent are all wasted." But one day a 
little girl went to that corner of the garden, and 
gathered the lilv. She ran away up to the house 
with it in her hand, and took it into the room 
where her little brother was lying ill, and said, 
"See, Johnny, wdiat a lovely lily I have found!" 
The little boy stretched out his hand and took the 
flower; he smelt its sweet perfume and admired 
its lovely whiteness, and said: "You dear, pretty 
lily, I will keep you and love you as long as you 
live; you have made me think how good God is 
to give us such treasures." 



I know a wet day is very trying to little chil- 
dren ; they get tired of their playthings, they get 
lired of one another, and sometimes they sa)', 
"Mother, do tell me what 1 can do; I've got noth- 
ing to tlo." And mother suggests some work. 
"No, I don't like that; I want something to play 
with ! If only I had cousin Freddy's toys I should 
be happ)'." 

I'ut that little boy wants something more than 
toys or work. .Shall I tcII you what he wants? 
,-J contented mind. 

If we enjoy the things we have, believing (iod 
loio'u'S best, and docs what is best for us, then we 
shall be contented on wet days as well as on fine 
ones. 

There is a story told of a man who always said, 
whatever his troubles were, "God knows best." 
This man worked in the quarries. His fellow- 
workmen used to make great fun of him, and try 
and annoy him if tliev could. One day when it 
was near the dinner hour, one of the workmen 
came up to him and said, "Charlie's dog has 
eaten all your dinner," and then he laughed and 
said, "What do vou think of that? You can't say 
now, God knows best, can you?" 

Tlie old man answered, "\'es, yes, my lad, I 
can; he never makes a mistake." Then he went 
home across the field to his wife. But there was 
no dinner at home, for the wife had eaten what 
little she had in the house. Still the old man said, 
"God knows best," and walked back contentedly 
to his work without any dinner. 

As he ncared the (juarries he was met by some 
workmen who said : "You are right. God does 
know best ! A large mass of stone has fallen 
right on to the place where you generally sit to 
eat your dinner, and if you had been there you 
would have been crushed to death !" 



"God only is the Maker 

Of all things near and far, 
He paints the wayside flower, 

He lights the evening star; 
The winds and waves obey him. 

By him the birds are fed ; 
Much more to us, his children, 

He gives our daily bread." 



NINETEENTH DAY 

"Be content with such things as ye have." 
— Heb. xiii. 5 

I AM afraid some of us are never quite contented; 
we often wish for something we cannot have, and 
perhaps after waiting a long time we get it, but it 
does not give us the pleasure we thought it would, 
and we want something else. 



'I cannot do great things for him 
Who did so much for mc ; 

Eut I would like to show my love, 
Lord Jesus, unto thee ; 

Faithful in very little things, 
O Saviour, may I be. 



"There are small things in daily life, 
In which I may obey. 
And these may show my lo\'C to thee ; 

And always — every day — 
There are some liUle kning words 
Which I for thee may say. 



"I ask thee, T.ord, to give me grace 

My little place to fill. 
That I may ever walk with thee, 

And ever do thy will ; 
And in each duty, great or small, 

I may be faithful still." 



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MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT TALKS 



TWENTIETH DAY 

"Jesus saith unto her. Gi\'e me to drink." 
— John IV. 7 

Jksus was passing throug;Ii Samaria on his way 
from Judaea into Galilee. He came to a citv called 
Sychar, near to which was Jacob's well. 

Jesus was very tired and thirsty, for he had 
been walking a long distance, and he sat down 
on the stonework of the well to rest. 

\\'hile he was sitting there, a woman of Sa- 
maria came to draw water, and Jesus asked her 
for some. He said, "Give me to drink." 

The woman was very much surprised that Je- 
sus should speak to her, for she saw he was a 
Jew, and the Jews had no dealings with the Sa- 
maritans. 

So she said, "How is it that thou, being a Jew, 
askest drink of me who am a woman of Sa- 
maria?" Jesus answered and said unto her, "If 
thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that 
saith to thee. Give me to drink, thou wouldst have 
asked of him, and he would have giyen thee liv- 
ing water." 

Now, Jesus knew all about this woman, as he 
does about you and me. He began to remind her 
of her own life, and he told her of God's love. 

After Jesus had talked some time with her, she 
went back to the city, and said to the people 
there, "Come, see a man which told me all things 
that ever I did; is not this the Christ?" 

Many people then went out to the well to see 
and hear for themselves. 

Jesus forgot all about his weariness and thirst ; 
he was so glad to show these Samaritans the way 
of salvation. And this poor woman did what we 
can all do, even the smallest child : we can tell 
others about the Saviour we have found. 

"I heard the voice of Jesus say, 

'Behold, I freely give 
The living water — thirsty one. 

Stoop down, and drink, and live.' 
I came to Jesus and I drank 

Of that life-giving stream ; 
My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, 

And now I li\-e in him." 



TWENTY-FIRST DAY 

"There is a lioy here that hath fl\'e barley loaves 
and two fishes." — John \i. 9 

You may think this rather a strange text to 
choose, but I want to tell you about a boy, and 
what use Jesus made of him. 

Our Saviour had gone to a mountain to rest 
for a while after a long day's work. 

When he saw the great number of people who 
had followed him, he knew they were tired and 



hungry too. He said, "Whence shall we find 
bread that these may eat?" And one of his dis- 
ciples answered, "There is a boy here that hath 
five barley loaves and two fishes." 

Then Jesus told his disciples to make the peo- 
ple sit down. When they were all ready, he gave 
thanks, and took the loaves and fishes, and divided 
them, giving portions to the disciples, who handed 
the food to the people. 

When all the people (and there were about five 
thousand) had eaten as much as they wanted, the 
disciples gathered up twelve baskets full of food 
that was left over. 

As we read this story we wonder how it was 
that this lad had the loaves and the fishes with 
him. Perhaps he had come with his father to 
hear what Jesus had to say to the people, or he 
may have come to try to sell the loaves and fishes, 
or best of all, he may have come on his own ac- 
count to learn of Jesus. 

I think wherever Christ was he generally had 
boys and girls ainong his followers. He must al- 
ways have spoken in a way to interest children 
and draw them to him, and he loved little children. 

Is it not good to think Jesus made use of this 
boy ? Nobody else seems to have taken anything 
to eat, and Jesus took the five loaves and fishes 
and made them enough for the wants of all this 
great multitude of men, women, and children. 

It must have made the lad feel happy that Je- 
sus noticed him, and made use of what he had 
taken with him. 

That boy would have missed a good deal if he 
had not gone that day to see Jesus. 

We learn from this that the Lord can use little 
children if they are willing to serve him; none 
are too young, none too small to do his will. 

There is no higher honor which Jesus can put 
on children than to let them serve him in any 
way, however small it may be. 

It is scarcely possible to say how very useful 
a good and happy child can be, and what a bless- 
ing he or she may be to others. 

"The fields are all white, 
And the reapers are few ; 
We children are willing, 
But what can we do 
To work for our Lord in his harvest? 

"Our hands are so small. 

And our words are so weak. 
We cannot teach others ; 
How then shall we seek 
To work for our Lord in bis harvest? 

"We'll work by our prayers, 
By the pennies we bring. 
By small self-denials ; 
The least little thing . 
May work for our Lord in his harvest." 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT TALKS 



223 



TWENTY-SECOND DAY 

"Thou shalt call his name Tesus ; for lie shall sa\o his 
people from their sins." — M<Ut. i. ji 

Perhaps some of vou know what it is to have a 
new baby in the home, a wee httle sister or 
brother, and almost the first thine;" \'ou think of is, 
"What shall we eall our new bab\' ?" 

Then each one thinks of the name to him or 
her the sweetest and prettiest. 

But if we were to think our hardest \\-c could 
never find a more lovelv name than Jcsiis. 

We can generallv tell whether little children 
love the Saviour bv the wav thev speak his name, 
which is above everv name. 

Jesus came into the world to save us; that was 
the reason given for his name. Jesus means "Sa- 
viour." He came into the world and died instead 
of us. 

I read a story about a soldier who was ordered 
to fight for his country. He had a si;k wife and 
little children, and so a friend otiered to go in- 
stead of him. The friend was accepted and went. 

During a battle he was killed, and after it was 
over the man who had stayed at home heard of 
his friend's death, and he had a stone erected to 
his memory and on it after his name the words, 
"He died for me," were carved. This man lived 
because his friend died instead of him. 

We live, and are children of God because our 
Friend and Elder Brother has died instead of us. 
He came into the world to save little children as 
well as grown-up people. \\"e are never too 
young to come to the Saviour, and he is always 
more willing to receive us than we are to go and 
confess our sins and ask for pardon. 

"Come, brethren, help me sing his praise, 
Oh ! praise the name of Jesus : 
Come, sisters all, your ^-oices raise, 
Oh ! bless the name of Jesus. 

"The children, too, both great and small. 
Who love the name of Jesus, 
May now accept the gracious call 

To work and live for Jesus. • 

"And when to that bright world above 
We rise to see our Jesus, 
We'll sing around the throne of love 
His name, the name of Jesus. 

"Sweetest note in seraph song. 

Sweetest name on mortal tongue, 
Sweetest carol ever sung, 
Jesus, blessed Jesus." 



TWENTY-THIRD DAY 

"Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast 
perfected praise." — Matt. xxi. i6 

This is a most beautiful children's story. 

Jesus was going up to Jerusalem to the feast of 



the Passover, and he told two of his disciples to 
go to a certain village, and there they would find 
an ass and a colt, which they were to bring to 
him. They did as they were told. And Jesus 
rode upon the ass in the midst of a great crowd 
of people who had gathered together; and mul- 
titudes hearing of his approach in the city of 
Jerusalem asked who he was, and as the crowd 
moved along they strewed his path with branches 
of palm-trees which they plucked, and others 
spread their garments in the way, and so the 
procession went on as far as the temple. 

]\Iany little children were waiting for Jesus 
there, and they joined in shouting, "Hosanna to 
the son of David." 

The chief priests were very displeased with the 
cries and shouts of these happy little ones, and 
said unto Jesus, "Hearest thou what these say?" 
And Jesus answered, "Have ye never read. Out of 
the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast per- 
fected praise ?" 

Our Lord was not displeased with the praises 
these little children gave to him. If children can 
do nothing else thev can praise and give him 
thanks. 

Don't vou think "\-our mother loves to have 
your arms round her neck and feel your sweet 
kisses on her lips? How much more are the 
praises of little children sweet to the Saviour? 
He loves them, he loves you. ^\'hen he lived 
down here he took the infants in his arms and 
blessed them ; and we know that Jesus delights 
in the children's songs, and opens wide his arms 
to those who cry, "Hosanna" to him to-day just 
as much as he did then. 

"Hosanna we sing, like the children dear, 
In the olden days, when the Lord lived here ; 
He blessed little children, and smiled on them. 
While they chanted his praise in Jerusalem. 
Alleluia we sing, like the children bright. 
With their Harps of gold and their raiment white. 
As they follow the Shepherd with lo\'ing eyes 
Thro' the beautiful valleys of Paradise." 

TWENTY-FOURTH DAY 

"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy 
might." — Eccl. ix. lo 

Some children are careless in the way they pre- 
pare their lessons, forgetting that in years to 
come they will want all the knowledge they can 
get, and that while they are young lessons are 
more easily remembered than when they are old. 
Some boys are very lazy even in playtime ; they 
want it all made nice and easy for them, and thev 
do not care about games which give them a little 
trouble or thought. But whatever we do, we 
ought to put our heart in it. We should strive to 



224 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT TALKS 



care for two things— that we always do our best, 
and that all we do shall be done out of love for 
Jesus. 

We may make the very smallest act beautiful, 
if it is onl)' carrying a cup of cold water to a 
thirsty one, if we do it with the thought that 
Jesus knows about it, and loves to see us doing 
it for his sake. 

It may be we have to sweep a room, but if we 
do it feeling that Jesus is looking at us, we shall 
do it as well as we possibly can. Or it may be 
that we have a fretful little brother or sister to 
mind for mother while she is busy. If we make 
up our minds to do it for Jesus's sake, we shall 
make the time we spend in taking care of the lit- 
tle child a truly happy one, knowing that we are 
doing our very best, and that God approves of it, 
though it may seem only a little thing, 

A gentleman asked a servant girl if she loved 
the Lord Jesus. She said, "Yes, sir." He said, 
"How do you know?" The, girl replied, "I think 
I do because I always sweep under the mats 
now." If we truly love Jesus it is sure to come 
out in the little things of our daily lives. 

"Oh, what can little hands do 

To scr\x* the King of heaven ? 

The little hands some work may try 

To help the poor in misery ; 

Such grace to mine be gixcn. 

*'Oh, what can little lips do 

To please the King of heaven ? 
The little lips can praise and pray, 
And gentle words of kindness say ; 
Such grace to mine be given. 

"Though small in all we can do 

To please the King of hea\'en ; 

When hearts and hands and lips unite 

To ser\'e the Saviour with delight, 

They're precious in his sight : 

Such grace to mine be given." 



TWENTY-FIFTH DAY 

"Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy." 
— L]tkc ii. 10 

On the night that our Saviour, the Lord Jesus 
Christ, was born, there were some shepherds 
watching their tlocks in a field, to guard the sheep 
from bears and wolves, and also from robbers, 
who might be lying in wait to steal their sheep. 
So these shepherds were in the fields keeping 
watch. 

All at once a very bright light shone over them. 
They had never seen such a light before. It was 
far brighter than the sun, for it was the glory of 
the Lord that shone round about them, and an 
angel appeared to them. They were very much 



frightened, but the angel said, "Fear not; for be- 
hold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which 
shall be to all people. For unto you is born this 
day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is 
Christ the Lord. And this shall b.e a sign unto 
you : ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling 
clothes, lying in a manger." 

And as the angel finished speaking the shep- 
herds saw with him a multitude of the heavenly 
host, and they were praising God and saying, 
"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, 
good will to men." 

When they had said this, they all returned to 
heaven, and the shepherds said to each other, 
"Let us now go even to Bethlehetn." 

They went at once and left their flocks, they 
were so eager to go and find the baby Jesus. And 
when they came to the little inn, they found in a 
manger of the stable what the angels had told 
them, for there was the holy child and his mother, 
Mary. They did not keep to themselves all they 
had heard, but they told to every one they could 
the wonderful news, that Jesus had been born, 
the Saviour, who should save his people from 
their sins. 

Is this Jesus anything to us? Do we know 
what it is to be able to say. He is my Saviour? 

"While shepherds watched their flocks by night, 
All seated on the ground. 
The angel of the Lord came down. 
And glory shone around. 

"'Fear not,' said he — for mighty dread 
Had seized their troubled mind — ■ 
'Glad tidings of great joy I bring 
To you and all mankind.' 

"Thus spake the seraph — and forthwith 
Appeared a shining throng 
Of angels, praising God, who thus 
Addressed their joyful song: 

" 'All glory be to God on high ! 
And to the earth be peace ! 
Good will henceforth from Heaven to men 
Begin, and never cease.' " 



TWENTY-SIXTH DAY 

"Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; 

but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head." 

— Luke ix. 58 

When our Lord Jesus Christ was on the earth, 
although he was the Son of God, he was so poor 
that he had not a place of his own to sleep in. 
He had no home to go to at evening when he was 
tired. He left his beautiful home in heaven for 
our sakes. All day long he was doing some lov- 
ing act for the poor people who caine to him. 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT TALKS 



225 



He gave sight to those who were liHnd, ho un- 
stopped the deaf cars, he nuidc the lame walk, 
the sick well, and the dead he raised to life a,i;ain. 
He was worse olT than the foxes, for \\\cy have 
holes in the earth \\here the\' hide iheniscK'es 
from dani;"er, or lake their rest, and prnlcct their 
little ones. And the hirds of the air ha\-e nesls, 
where thcv sit, la\- their eggs, and hatch them, 
and hring up their ^'oung ; hut the Son of man 
liad not where to lay his head when he was weary, 
and wanted to rest and sleep, as he did at this 
time. When we are in our nice warm hods al 
night, and we think of all this, «'c can under- 
stand a little what great lo\'c the Sa\'iour had for 
us, though he was Lord (.if lords and King of 
kings, yet for our sakes he hecame homeless and 
poor. 

''Christ ^\'as merciful and mild ; 
He was once a littlr cliiM ; 
He whom hea\"Ln1y iiosts adore 
Li\ ed on eartli anirm^- the poor. 
He the sick to healtli restored. 
To tile poor he preached the word, 
E^■en chihiren had a share 
Of his lo\"e and tender care. 

*'E\"ery Itird can Ijuilit its nest, 
Fo-xes li.i\"e their filace of rest ; 
He by wliom the world was made 
Hail not whori.- to l.iy his he.ad. 
He who is the Lord most high 
Then was poorer far than I, 
That I might hereafter be 
Rich to all eternity." 

t\\'exty-se\'e:\th hay 

"I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither 
thou goest." — Gc-n. xxviii. 15 

Wii.\T a preciotis prriniise this is — "I am with 
thee." A\dio is with us? God is: he says so. 
How safe we feel when wc remember this ! AX'iien 
we get up in the morning he is with us. Wdiile 
we are doing our lessdiis or playing he is with us. 
When we are out walking or visiting our little 
friends he is with us, and keeps us safe in all 
places wdiere we go. -Vnd at night when we lie 
down to rest in our heds he is still wkh us, to 
watch over us and guard us. Xo earthly parent 
or friend is so watchful and careful about us; 
they have to leave us sometimes but God never 
does. 

The words of the text were first spoken to 
Jacob. His parents, Isaac and Rebekah, were 
sending him from home to a far-off country, and 
as he was on his way there night came on. Jacob 
was tired and he had no tent or house to rest in, 
so he lay down on the ground to sleep, with some 
stones for his pjillow. 

While he was sleeping he dreamed he saw a 



ladder that went tip from (be earth to the sky, 
and on it angels of (lud, who went up and down 
the ladder, and al die ln|i lie saw the Lord liofl, 
\\dio spoke 111 liim, .and tnlil liim lie would give 
the ciiuiUry where lu' then was t(j him and to his 
children, and that he wiitild bless him and make 
him ,a great name. 

;\nd ( iod said, "P.ehold, I am with (bee, and 
will kee]i Ibee in all places whither thou goest, 
and will bring thee again into this band." 

When Jaciib .awoke he was very hap]i\-, for he 
knew ( Hid wnuld keep his promise, so he made up 
his mind that he wniild in the future do that 
which was right, and walk netir to (.Iod, who was 
Su good lo him. 

"O lillle child! lie still and sleep; 

Jesns is ne.ir, then net'd'st not fear; 
No one m.ed fL.ir wh'im thnj di,th keep, 

Ily day or night ; 
Then la\" thee down in sluinln r deep 
Till morning light. 

"O little child ! be still and rest ; 

Me sw'e(.tly sleejis whom Jesns keeps, , 

And in the morning wakes so blest 

His child to be ; 
Lo\e e\ i.ry one. but hue him best: 

He first lo\ed thee." 

TW'ENTV-EIGHTII DAY 

"I.o\est till lU me .^" — John xxi, 15 

After our Savimir had risen from tlie dead, he 
appeared se\-cral times to his disciples — once on 
the shnre ni the .^ea of Tiberias as the disciples 
\\'cre returning from fishing all night, and had 
caught nothing. As the\' were coming to shore 
they saw Jesus standing there. He called to them 
and asked them if lliev had caught an\' fish, and 
they said, "X'o." Then Jesus told them to cast 
their net on the right side of the boat, and when 
the\' did sn their net liec;imc so full of fish that 
tlie\' could hardlv draw it into the boat. Wdien 
this was done, Jesus asked them to come and 
have breakfast with him on shore. This they 
did, eating the bread and fish wdiich Jesus had 
prepared for them. 

i\nd after this hap])v meal was finished, he said, 
ttnaiing to Peter, "Lovest tlmu me?" I think it 
was so good of (itir Lord to speak like this to him, 
for yfju remember it was I'eler who said, "Al- 
though all should forsake tliee \x't will not I," 
and after sa)'ing that, denied him three times, just 
before our Lord was crucified. 

But Jesus spoke to Peter wdlh great tenderness 
and said, "Lovest thou me?" And Peter an- 
swered and said, "Yea, Lord, thou knowest that 
I love thee." Jesus said to him, "I'eed my lambs." 

Do you not think it comforting that the Lord 



226 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT TALKS 



thought of his lambs, the httle ones like you? 
He loved the children very dearly, and had often 
called them to him and taken them in his arms 
and blessed them, and he now was going back 
again to heaven to prepare a place for all those 
who should love and believe on him. He gave 
his disciple Peter a certain work to do for him. 
"Feed my lambs." "Tell the little ones about my 
life, my death, my rising again from the dead, 
my going back into heaven. Bring them to me, 
in working for them, praying for them, teaching 
them that although I have gone away yet one 
day I will come again." This same Jesus who 
told Peter to feed his lambs is ever with us now. 
He loves us with a perfect love. No one can be 
too little or. weak to he loved by Jesus, and he 
asks us for our love. We must give him the first 
place in our hearts. We can give him the great- 
est joy by loving and obeying him ourselves, and 
then doing all we can to bring others to know 
and love the Saviour whom we have found. 

"Jesus loves me ! this I know. 
For the Bible tells me so ; 
Little ones to him belong: 
They are weak, but he is strong. 

"Jesus loves me ! he who died 
Heaven's gates to open wide ; 
He will wash away my sin. 
Let his little child come in. 

"Jesus loves me ! he will stay 
Close beside me all the way ; 
If I love him, when I die 
He will take me home on high." 



TWENTY-NINTH DAY 

"Behold thy mother." — John xix. 27 

These words were spoken to the beloved disciple 
John by the Lord Jesus Christ when he was 
nailed to the cross, and was dying that cruel 
death. Even through all the pains he was endur- 
ing, his last thoughts were for that dear mother 
who had nursed and cared for him when he was 
little, who still loved him though the world had 
rejected him, and who was now standing by the 
cross with John. And he said tenderly to her, 
"Woman, behold thy son!" and to John, "Behold 
thy mother!" Take care of her and provide for 
her as if she were thine own mother. 

This shows us how poor our Saviour was. He 
had nothing to leave her, though he was Lord of 
all. He had most likely taken care of her and 
maintained her for some years, as her husband 
was dead. And now in his dying moments he 
commits her to the care of this disciple. And at 
once John obeyed him, leading her away to his 
own home. Dear little children ! if our Saviour 



Tesus Christ thought so much about his mother, 
ought we not to be loving and tender and kind to 
our mothers? We read in the Bible that Jesus 
was subject to his parents. That means he obeyed 
them. Let us see that we follow our Lord's foot- 
steps in this, and obey our fathers and mothers. 

I heard of a little girl who was living in India, 
where you know there are many poisonous 
snakes, and one day she was sitting in the garden 
reading a very interesting book. Her mother 
was sitting some distance away working, and as 
she raised her eyes to look at her little girl, what 
was her horror to see a large snake just behind 
the child ready to spring on her ! The mother 
was almost speechless with fright, but knowing 
the great peril her child was in, she called out,, 
"Mary, run quickly to me !'' The little girl, who 
was in the habit of obeying, dropped her book, 
and ran to her mother as she was told. Her 
obedience saved her life, for in another moment 
ihe snake would have fastened upon her, and in- 
flicted a deadly wound with its sting. So you 
see this little girl's life was saved by obeying at 
once. 

"Once in royal David's city 
Stood a lowly cattle-shed, 

Where a mother laid her baby 
In a manger for his bed ; 

Mary was that mother mild, 
Jesus Christ her little child. 

"And through all his wondrous childhood. 

He would honor and obey, 
Love, and watch the lowly maiden 

In whose gentle arms he lay ; 
Christian children all must be 

Mild, obedient, good as he." 



THIRTIETH DAY 

"Who is my neighbor?" — Luke x. 29 

We read in this chapter that a certain lawyer 
asked Jesus who was his neighbor, and Jesus an- 
swered him by telling the parable of the Good 
Samaritan. 

A certain man went down from Jerusalem to 
Jericho. This journey is a very dangerous one, 
as it is a lonely road, and robbers are watching 
where they cannot be seen, to pounce upon trav- 
elers, and take away their money and any valua- 
ble things they may have about them. It is al- 
most as dangerous now, as it was in the days of 
Jesus. 

As the man went along toward Jericho, some 
thieves stopped him, and took away all his clothes, 
and wounded him, and left him half dead. After 
a little while a priest came that way, and when 
he saw the poor man, instead of helping him, he 
passed by on the other side. Presently a Levitt 



MOTHER'S GOOD-NIGHT TALKS 



227 



came, and he only looked at him and passed on. 
Then a Samaritan, as he was journeying that 
way, saw the poor man. and he was sorry for him. 
He came to him, hound up his wounds, put him 
on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and 
took care of him. Tlie next day, when he had to 
leave, he gave the innkeeper some money to pay 
for the poor man's lodgings and all he might 
need, and said. "If you spend any more upon him, 
I will pay it." 

\\^hen Jesus had finished telling this story, he 
said to the lawyer, "Wdiich of these three, think- 
est thou, was neighbor unto him that fell among 
thieves?" And he said, "He that shewed mercy 
on him." Then said Jesus unto him, "Go, and do 
tlioit likewise." 

Our neighbors are all around us, and we are 
never too small to help them. Even in the 
nursery playing with our brothers and sisters we 
may often act the part of the Good Samaritan. 

We may see one little child sitting on the floor 
crying, and another taking no notice of her, but 
if we leave our playthings, and try to see if we 
cannot help dry those tears, and bring the smiles 
back to the little face, we shall not lose our re- 
ward ; for we know that Jesus is looking down 
from his home in heaven and is pleased to see us 
do what we can to help each other. 

"Thy neighbor ? It is he whom thou 
Hast po\\'er to aid and bless, 
W'hose aching heart or burning brow 
Thy soothing hand may press. 

"Thy neighbor? 'Tis the fainting poor. 
Whose eye with want is dim ; 
Whom hunger sends from door to door ; 
Go thou, and succor him. 

"Thy neighbor"^ 'Tis that weary man 
Whose years are at their brim, 
Bent low with sickness, cares, and pain; 
Go thou, and comfort him." 



THIRTY-FIRST DAY 

"For our conversation is in heaven, from whence 

also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ." 

— Phil. iii. 20 

"Our conversation" does not mean talking to one 
another about our daily lives and doings. It 



means our citizenship — our Itomc is in heaven. 
We might be staying somewhere in a foreign 
country for a time, and if any one asked us if we 
lived there, we should say, "No, our home is in 
our own country, and we hope one day to go 
there." So we may speak of heaven as our home. 

Every true follower of Jesus, every one who 
has given his heart to him, is journeying to that 
bright home. 

If we love the Saviour, and try to serve and_ 
obey him, we are showing to others that we are 
on our way to that city "which hath no need of 
the sun, neither of the moon to shine in it; for 
the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb, 
the Lord Jesus Christ, is the light thereof." 

And now I have come to the end of this little 
book, and if any word I have written has made 
one little child think of \vhat the Lord Jesus has 
done for him, and try to love and serve him 
more, and read his Holy Word the Bible, and 
there find with the aid of God's Spirit what a 
lovely life a Christian child's may be, this little 
book has not been written in vain. 

I may never see any of you in this life, yet I 
pray we may all meet "around the throne of God 
in heaven," when we shall see our Saviour not 
as through a glass darkly, but face to face, and 
shall know even as we are known. 

"One sweetly solemn thought 
Comes to me o'er and o'er — 
I'm nearer Home to-day 

Then I ever have been before. 

"Nearer my Father's house, 

Where the many mansions be ; 
Nearer the great white throne ; 
Nearer the crystal sea — 

"Nearer the bound of life, 

Where we lay our burdens down, 

, Nearer leaving the cross ; 
Nearer gaining the crown. 

"Saviour, perfect my trust. 

Strengthen the might of my faith ; 

Let me feel as I would when I stand 

On the rock of the shore of death ; 

"Feel as I would when my feet 
Are slipping over the brink ; 
For it may be Lm nearer Home. 
Nearer now than I think." 




CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR 
OLDER CHILDREN 




A STOP-OVER CHRISTMAS 



BY CLAIRE H. GURNEY 



"Come, boys, yon \\'in have to jump up now, if 
you want to f;"ct home for Christmas,'' and papa 
set the lamp on, the table and pushed aside the 
curtains from the window at the foot of the bed 
where Russell and Giles lay so ccvered up by 
gay-colored patch-work quilts that nothing but 
the tops of their tousled brown heads could l)e 
seen. Russell stretched, turned over, and then 
snuggled still deeper into the warm bed, but Giles 
opened his big brown eves and looked about him. 

"Why, farver" (he was an odd little fellow 
and never said "papa" and "mama" as the other 
children did, but always "farver" and "muv- 
ver"), "why, farver, what makes it so dark when 
it is time to get up ?" 

"It 's verv early. Boy. Idere at the farm 
they 're not such lazv folks as we are, and be- 
sides, it 's snowing hard." 

"Snowing! Really, papa?" and Russell opened 
his eyes and jumping out of bed ran to the win- 
dow. 

"Hurrah!" he shouted. "See how fast it 's 
coming down !'' Giles was up in a minute, as 
eager as his brother, and papa helped him with 
his buttons (which was quite fair, you know, 
because he was such a little fellow), so that he 
was hardly a second behind Russell as they raced 
down-stairs. 

Aunt Clara had breakfast all ready for them as 
soon as mama came in with Sylvia and Baby 
Laura. Uncle Tom shook his head as he looked 
out of the window. "It 's going to be a tough 
storm, Harold," he said to papa ; "you and Mar- 
garet and the children had better stay with us 
over Christmas. Your Aunt Clara and I 'd be 
more than glad to have you." 

"Yes, indeed !" echoed Aunt Clara. "You al- 



ways make such little nipping visits that I de- 
clare I d(in't have time to see you before you 're 
off again." 

"W'e 'd love to stay if we could. Auntie," said 
J\lr. Girdwood, "but you see I promised mother 
that we 'd take our Christmas dinner with her at 
home to-morrow, so we must go." 

"Your mother would be lonesome without you, 
that 's true," said Uncle Tom, "but I 'm not so 
sure as I 'd like to be that )-ou '11 get home if this 
storm continues, and you might just as well be 
here as snowed up on the railroad. You 'd find 
that was n't much of a joke with four children 
and two of 'em nothing but babies. 

"Well," he went on after a few minutes, "if 
you think you must go, we '11 have to start pretty 
soon for it '11 take nearly an hour to get to the 
station, and the train is due at ten o'clock." 

So the boys put on their overcoats and mittens 
and pulled their caps down over their ears. 
Mama and Sylvia put on their cloaks, and Aunt 
Clara brought shawls and buffalo robes, in one 
of which papa wrapped Baby Laura so that she 
looked like an Eskimo baby. Then Jim, the hired 
man, drove up to the door with Dan and Jerry 
harnessed into the big double sleigh, and papa 
and LIncle Tom put them all in,^mama with 
Baby Laura in her lap and Sylvia and Giles on 
the back scat, and papa and Uncle Tom and 
Russell on the front, and away they went, 
so wrapped up in the fur robes that they 
could hardly turn around to shout a last good-by 
to Aunt Clara, who stood at the window wav- 
ing her handkerchief to them. The snow 
was getting deep, but Dan and Jerry were 
strong and pulled steadily, so that they reached 
the station in time for papa to buy the tickets and 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDKR CHILDREN 



220 



for everybody to say good-by to Uncle Tonj be- 
fore getting on tbe train. 

It was so stormy that very few people were 
traveling, so that there was plenty of room, and 
the children amused themselves bv looking out 
of the windows, first on one side of the car and 
then on the other; but in an hour or two they 
grew tired of this, for the train was going very 
slowly and the snow was falling so thick and fast 
that they could hardly see a bit of the outside 
world. The wind had begun to blow and every 
few minutes it would dash against the car, and 
when occasionally Russell could get a peep 
through the window he saw that the snow was 
piling up in great drifts across the track. Laura 



ally stopped, — then the engine gave two or three 
throbs and went jerking forward only to come to 
another stop, and this time there was no starting 
again. 

"What 's the matter, papa?" said Sylvia. 

"Are «'e snowed in?" asked Russell. 

"I 'm afraid so," answered Mr. Girdwood. 
"I '11 go forward and speak to the conductor." 

"May I go with j'ou, papa?" 

"Ves," and Mr. Girdwood and Russell went to 
find him. 

When they came back papa looked rather 
serious. "Yes," he said, in answer to their ques- 
tions, "we are snowed in and there is no pros- 
pect of our getting out at present; the wind is 




COME ALONG, O.N'E AND ALL! SAID MR. BROWN. 



and Giles were so sleepy that mama let them lie 
down on the seats and have a nap ; Sylvia tried 
to amuse herself by making a hat for Laura's 
doll out of a bit of ribbon that mama found in 
her bag, and Russell borrowed papa's fountain 
pen and wrote a letter to his chum, Charlie Pot- 



increasing every minute and I think it could n't 
snow any harder than it is snowing now." 

"Then we 're stuck tight, farver ?" said Giles, 
who was now awake. 

"Yes, Giles, 'stuck tight.'" 
AVon't we ever get home, farver?" and Giles' 



ler. The tr«ii.n w.e.nt .slower .and slower and fin- brown eyes looked very serioiLS indeed. 



230 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



"Oh, yes, but not as soon as we expected." 
"Won't we get home in time for dinner ?" 
"I 'm afraid not. But perhaps mama can give 
us something to eat. I saw Aunt Clara put a 
very nice-looking bundle into that bag." 

Mama took out the bundle and opened it, and 
there were enough chicken sandwiches and 
sponge cake for everybody, even the conductor 
and brakeman. After they had eaten their lun- 
cheon they played games for a while, but as the 
afternoon wore away they all grew weary. It 
was about four o'clock when suddenly they heard 
some one shouting, and in a few minutes there 
was a great stamping of feet and a hearty laugh 
and then the door opened and in came the con- 
ductor and with him a tall man wearing a leather 
jacket and high cowhide boots. In his hand was 
a big basket that he placed on the floor, and then 
he came along to where papa and Giles were 
seated. His face was so pleasant and kindly that 
mama and the children were quite ready to an- 
swer to his cheery greeting with a smile. He 
told them that his name was Brown and that his 
farm-house was only a short distance from the 
track, and that when he discovered that the train 
was blocked he thought he 'd come down with 
"some milk and doughnuts for the folks. But," 
he went on, "wife, she says to me, 'if there 's any 
women folk on the train bring 'em up to the 
house, especially if there 's children with 'em,' 
and the conductor says that you are the only wo- 
man and that these are the only children on the 
train, ma'am, and we 'd be very glad to have you 
come up to the house. Of course, you 'd come 
too, sir." 

"You are verj^ kind, Mr. Brown," began papa, 
"but—" 

"Oh, papa, don't say 'but,' " said Sylvia, "do let 



us go 



I" 



"Now that 's just right," said Mr. Brown, 
"come along, one and all ; the house is big enough 
and I 've a girl and a boy that '11 be tickled to 
pieces to have company. They 've got a Christ- 
mas tree all ready to light up after supper." 

"/ 'II go with you, Mr. Brown," said Giles. 

"Good !" said the farmer, "that 's the kind of 
talk I like." 

Mr. Girdwood laughed. "It is a most kind in- 
vitation, Mr. Brown, and Mrs. Girdwood and I 
accept it with pleasure. But will it be possible for 
these little folks and their mama to get through 
the snow?" 

"Why, I 've tunneled through the drifts from 
the house to the road, and the wind has blown 
the snow off, till the road 's as bare as the back 
of your hand down here to the tracks and we '11 
soon dig through this big bank by the train." 



So the brakeman and Mr. Brown dug a path 
to the road, and papa took Laura in his arms, 
and Mr. Brown took Giles on his shoulder, and 
off they started for the farm-house. Mama was 
a little afraid that the train might get started 
and go off without them, but Mr. Brown re- 
assured her. 

"Why, ma'am," he said, "they '11 get no snow- 
plow through this road before morning, and be- 
fore they 'd get that train dug out and started 
there 'd be such a tooting of whistles and blow- 
ing oft' of steam that you 'd hear it a mile away. 
Besides, Jim Pearson, — he 's the brakeman,— told 
me he 'd come over and let us know if there was 
any chance of starting." 

Mrs. Brown greeted her company warmly and 
in a few minutes the children felt as well ac- 
quainted with Walter and Esther Brown as 
though they had known them for years. Walter 
was a fine boy twelve years old, just Sylvia's age, 
and Esther was nine, a year younger than Rus- 
sell. 

After they had eaten what Russell and Giles 
called the best supper that ever was, they all 
went into the room where the Christmas tree 
stood. It was decorated with bright tinsel stars 
and festoons of popcorn and cranberries, and 
when Mr. Brown lighted the candles it looked 
very gay and pretty. Sylvia gazed at it a mo- 
ment, then she whispered to her mother. Mrs. 
Girdwood smiled and nodded, then she and Syl- 
via left the room, coming back in a few minutes 
with some little packages that they handed to Mr. 
Brown to hang on the tree. What a merry time 
they had ! At papa's suggestion they formed a 
ring and danced gaily around the tree ; then Mr. 
Brown took the packages down and distributed 
them. How surprised Russell was to have a fine 
bow and arrow handed to him! (He did n't know 
that Walter had taken it from his store of cher- 
ished toys.) Sylvia got a lovely photograph of 
Esther; Giles was made happy by a big paper sol- 
dier cap ; and Laura had a paper doll that she 
thought was a marvel of beauty. Then the pack- 
ages that Sylvia had hung on the tree were taken 
down and the Browns were surprised in their 
turn, for there was a tiny parcel marked with 
Esther's name, which when it was opened proved 
to be the pretty turquoise ring that Sylvia had 
quietly slipped from her finger; papa's stylo- 
graphic pen went into Walter's pocket ; and 
mama had found a dainty handkerchief for Mrs. 
Brown. Little Giles had insisted upon giving 
Mr, Brown his most precious possession, a beau- 
tiful new knife. Mr. Brown thanked him warmly 
for it, and told him he should always keep it. 

So the evening passed away; they laughed and 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDl-.R CHIT.DRI'IN 



talked and ate walnuts and popcorn until Laura 
was fast asleep in mama's lap, and Esther and 
Giles found it hard to keep their eves open, and 
even the bigger ones were growing sleep\- ; tlien 
off they went to bed. The snow had ceased fall- 
ing, and as j\Irs. Brown drew aside the curtain 



231 

hardly say enough to thank Farmer P.rown and 
his wife for their kindness, and tlie children 
parted with Walter .and listher with much regret. 
"It seems as if we 'd alwa)-s known each other, 
does n't it?" saiil h^sther, and Sylvia and the 
others agreed willi her. 




'\VH-\T .\ MEKKY TIME THEY H.AD 



they all peeped out and saw the stars shining in 
the clear dark sky. 

"I hope the)' won't get the snow-plow through 
for a week," said Walter, as he led Russell into 
the cozy bedroom they were to share that night. 

"So do I," answered Russell ; "this is one of 
the best Christmases I ever had." 

But before the sun rose the next morning the 
great snow-plow, with a gang of men with shov- 
els, had arrived, and there was onlv time to dress 
and eat a hurried breakfast before Jim Pearson 
came running in to say that the train would start 
in a few minutes. Mr. and Mrs. Girdwood could 



"W'e '11 stop and see you next sunnner, when 
we go to Uncle Tom's," said Russell. 

But papa said that ;\Ir. and Mrs. Brown must 
surelv promise to come to Boston to make a re- 
turn visit, and bring Walter and Esther with 
them. And he would n't let Mr. Brown say no. 

Then the whistle blew long and loud and 
everybody ran for the train, shouting, "Good-by, 
good-by, Walter!" "Good-by, Esther." 

And slowlv the engine moved off, bearing with 
it the happy little st(.ip-over Christmas travelers 
in time for them to have their promised Christ- 
mas dinner with their grandmother. 



.'A 



TRAVELERS FROM 
THE EAST j 

BY EMMA A LENTE 

Three Kings cdsm lOurn^ymg fiuni the Eavt,- ■ 
Three Kings were they oi wide reno^\n, 
But each laid ott hi^ royal crown, 

Content tu count himself the lea^t. 

Three Kmgb came lourneyingto the >\ Cbt ^ 
Star-led, thiey came n'er deseit sands. 
O'er hill, and moor, and aJien lands, — ■ 

Scarce tarrying for needed rebt. 

They journeyed costly giftb to bnny , 
Frankincense, myrrh, and gold the\ boi t, 
From .jut a rare and hoarded stole. 

Wherewith tu greet a greater King 

Star-guidtd, to j manger-bed 

They caniepWith wonder and with awe, 

■Vxid reverence and love, and saw 
A Child with radiance 'round His head. 

They worshiped, loved, and went their way,- 
Three Kings so great and good and wise, 
Whose deed, through all the centuries 

Is told on tivery Christmas Day 

And. still, across tlie desert sands, 

Our reverent fancy sees the plain. 

The star-ht town, the camel tram, 
And Kings witih treasure m their hands. 







DfM of tW ^Otttt 




'I 'd lie the shiniest green," 

"Wished once a sprig of holly, 

'That e'er at Yule was seen, 

And deck some banquet jolly!" 

"I 'd be the" cheeriest red," 

Wished once the holly-berry, 

"That e'er at Ijoard rich spread 

Helped make the feasters merry!" 

The life within them heard 

Down dark and silent courses. 

For each wish is a word 

To those fair-hidden sources. 

All Summer in the wood. 

While they were riper growing. 

The deep roots understood. 

And helped without their knowing. 

In a little market stall 

At Yule the sprig lay waiting, 
For fine folk one and all 

Passed by that open grating. 

The Eve of Christmas Day 

It had been passed by many, 
W^hen one turned not away 
And bought it for a penny. 

Hers was a home of care 

Which not a wreath made jollj'; 

The only Christmas there 

W^as that sweet sprig of holly. 

■'Oh, this is better far 

Than banquet!" thought the berry; 
The leaves glowed like a star 
And made that cottage merry ! 




-O 



■'^--, 




.-^'^ 



JL WF AiJiJi » 



i)y Qjarlotte Sed^vVicK) 



Annette Hall's needle was beating a faint little 
drum-tune on the circle of linen stretched taut 
over her embroidery-hoops, evolving a crimson 
rose ; Mary Dayton's brush was tracing golden 
scrolls on a fine white china cup ; Katrine Schuy- 
ler's long amber needles were weaving mysteries 
of violet wool; Rosalie Jessup's ivory paper-knife 
was spreading sweet-smelling powder over a 
broad surface of fleecy -white stuff; — the Christ- 
mas Club was in busy session. 

"How early it gets dark!" Mary complained, 
bending lower over her cup. 

Rosalie sprang up, shaking sweetness all around. 

"Let 's stop awhile and have our tea," she said. 
She pushed a bell somewhere, and then, kneeling 
by the fire, she prodded the big logs into a crack- 
ling blaze. 

"Come on over here, girls," she called. "The 
tea-things are coming in a minute." 

Down on the rug they sat in a merry circle, and 
when Annie appeared she was directed to place 
her great silver tray on the floor. The little kettle 
was already singing, and the girls fell into si- 
lence, listening and watching the fire. 

" 'Twilight and firelight, shadows come and 
go,' " Annette murmured. 

"It 's all so comfy," Katrine sighed. 

"Where can Judy be?" Mary wondered. 

"Girls, I 'm worried about Judy," said Rosalie. 
"One sugar or two, Katrine?" 



"Three, please," said Katrine. "Girls, she is 
ivorricd about Judy!" 

"JJ'hy is she worried about Judy?" asked An- 
nette, in tragic tones. 

"Because," Rosalie explained, "she has n't had 
a bright idea for a long time, and one must be 
about due; and if she should get one now, and we 
should catch it, and — and so near Christmas," she 
finished anxiously. 



"Oh, cheer up !" Katrine comforted. 



Tt 



been so long now, maybe she 's outgrown them." 

"Rap on wood, quick!" Annette advised. 

Mary reached over and solemnly rapped on 
Katrine's coronet of golden braids. 

"Funny Mary !" drawled Katrine. 

"You know we ahvavs do just what she sug- 
gests, Annette. She has a way— Judy has. Our 
only safety is not to let her suggest anything." 

There was a distant sound as of a heavy door 
closing, a swift rush as of a little breeze coming, 
and then within the circle a brown elf of a girl 
appeared, with shining eyes and glowing cheeks. 

"How dear you look !" she cried. "Oh, girls, 
I 've got just the loveliest idea !" 

Then up rose four determined maidens and fell 
upon that small one. 

"No, you don't, Judy Kendall, — oh, no, you 
don't !" quoth Mary, more in fear than in wrath. 

"Perhaps if you '11 let us put you right to bed 
you can sleep it off, dear," cooed Annette. 



236 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



"There, there, child, take a cup o' tea and for- 
get it," advised Katrine. 

Judy wrigg-led away from her tormentors. 

"Are you all quite crazy?" she asked sweetly. 
'T was only going to tell you—" 

"Judy darling," Rosalie broke in, "you are not 
going to tell us anything. No lovely ideas until 
after Christmas! Do you get tliat idea, Judy?" 

Judy laughed, tossed the brown coat and furs 
and hat on a sofa, and dropped down beside the 
tea-tray, a slim little figure in a white serge 
sailor frock and scarlet tie. 

"I want my tea," she said. Rosalie knelt to 
serve her, and the others completed the merry 
circle. 

"You are late, Judy," Mary chided. "Not a 
stitch of work have you done this day." 

Judy greedily ate her cake. 

"What kept you, dear?" Annette coaxed. 

A flame shooting up caught sweet mischief 
lurking in Judy's dimples, but the girls did n't 
see and the little flame did n't tell. 

"I had a lot of errands to do for Mother," Judy 
explained, "and of course I had to stop and look 
at 'The Night before Christmas' in Hartmann's 
window. That window made me late at school 
three times last week," she added ruefully. "Well, 
two wee things were looking, too, and — but it 's 
a long story; you don't want to hear it," she 
ended. 

Thus denied, they were sure that they wanted 
to hear every word of it, only they might as well 
be working, Mary suggested. Rosalie flooded 
the room with light, and the Christmas Club was 
busy again, all but Judy, who stayed on the floor 
by the fire. 

"I must get these bureau-pads together while 
I 'm in the mess," Rosalie apologized. "Go on, 
dear; we 're listening." 

So Judy went on. She had talked to the chil- 
dren beside her at the windov/, and they had 
played a merry little game of "I choose." Judy 
herself had chosen a tiny table set for tea and the 
doll party around it, which Santa Claus was leav- 
ing for one of the children "nestled all snug in 
their beds." The little girl wanted the baby doll 
in its cradle and the wee chair beside it, hung 
with the baby doll's dainty clothes. The small 
boy sniffed at dolls and manfully selected an 
automobile, a drum, and a pair of roller-skates, 
and some fur gloves. 

"All right," Judy had said then, "I '11 just step 
in and mention to Santy what we want." 

But the small girl had detained her, explaining 
gravely that Judy must not, for Santy was very 
poor this year, her mother had told them, and he 
probably would not come to their house at all. 



"Then," said Judy, "I just whisked those babies 
in, and fed 'em hot chocolate and sandwiches, and 
made 'em tell me all about it. They are Tommy 
and Bessie Evans, and they live out toward the 
lake. Their father has been sick for a long time, 
and their mother is trying to make their savings 
last till he can work again, so Santy is too poor 
to come. And, girls, they were n't even dressed 
v.'arm— their toesies were almost out of their 
shoesies." 

"Oh, Judy!" Annette choked. Judy smiled. 

"You '11 feel better in a minute, dear," she com- 
forted. "I left those infants drinking chocolate 
at the little table and just ran around to Father's 
office and collected my March allowance." 

"Your March allowance!" cried Mary, in 
horror. 

"Of course," said Judy, easily; "I 've spent them 
up to— April now. Well, we bought shoes. 
Tommy and Bessie and I, and stockings and 
fleece-lined rubbers and mittens. It was more 
fun !" 

Katrine was tapping an amber needle against 
her white teeth. "How big is your family, Judy?" 
she asked. "I wonder if they could n't wear some 
of Editha's and Bobby's things." 

"They can," Judy said — "they do. I trotted 
them right over to your mother and held her up 
for warm coats; got those fuzzy scarlet ones your 
young imps wore last winter. Then I made Dave 
take us home in the car, Rosalie. They had never 
been in an automobile before, and they had simply 
the time of their lives, those kiddies did. And 
that is why I 'm late," she ended, and gazed into 
the fire, smiling. Presently she got up and joined 
the industrious ones. 

"How many presents did you have last Christ- 
mas, Rosalie?" she asked. 

"Oh, forty or fifty, I suppose," said Rosalie, 
carelessly. "Why?" 

"I had over thirty," Judy said. "Nobody needs 
so many. Rosalie, won't you please give me that 
baby doll in the cradle this year, and the little 
clothes, and the chair?" 

"Touched in the head, poor thing!" said Mary, 
pityingly. "Better humor her, Rosalie." 

"She shall have her baby doll, yes, she shall," 
laughed Rosalie. 

"A drum, Katrine?" Judy suggested. 

"Yes, dear, yes; and some roller-skates— I 'H 
steal a pair from Bobby," Katrine promised. 

"I 'd just love to give you an automobile, 
dearest," Annette offered. 

"And I was thinking of fur gloves," Mary con- 
fessed. "Do you know what size you wear, 
Judy?" 

"I 'm Tommy and Bessie Evans, please," Judy 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDRl^N 



237 



correclcd. "Girls, will you 'reely-trooly' do it? 
And then not gi\'c one thins; to Judy Kendall? 
Girls, ivill you?" 

"Oh, I think it 's szvcct !" Annette exclaimed. 
"I 'm going to do it, too. I 'm — I 'm Emily 
Bailey, girls; you know — that little lame girl. 
And I want a doll and things to sew for it, and 
books and picture-puzzles, and — and — " 

"I 'm the O'Ratferty twins, nieself," ]\Iary an- 
nounced. "I dunno yit what I 'm wantin'. I '11 
inquire whin me mother goes to wash for Missus 
Dayton nixt Monday." 

"I '11 ask Mother to tell me wl:o we can be, 
Katrine," Rosalie said. "She has an eye on every 
poor famil\- in town, I guess. And I '11 tell you, 
girls, let 's hang our stockings up here by the fire, 
Christmas Eve, and fill them. Then Dave will 
take us all round in the car to distribute them." 

"We must have a Santa Claus," Judy added. 
■A\'ould Peter do it, Katrine, the way he does for 
Bobbv and Editha ?'' 

"Of course," Katrine promised. "I '11 make 
him." 

"You see, I promised Tommv and Bessie that 
he would surely come, and that they, should see 
him if they were good." She stopped in alarm, 
for Annette's eves were shining with intelligence. 

"Judy Kendall — " Annette began. Judy winked 
a naughty eye at her. Annette's brow lifted in 
question, and Judy winked another eye and laid 
her finger on her lips, whereupon Annette sprang 
up and hugged her. 

"You dear!" she whispered. 

"Hush !'' Judy warned. 

It was the night before Christmas, and all through 
the Jessup house five young creatures in bright 
dresses were stirring about with a rapidity which 
caused David to insist that he had counted ten of 
'em at least. He mentioned his calculations to a 
little creature in blue who was hurrying through 
the hall with a big red basket on each arm. 
"Say," he added, "why don't you get in one of 
those baskets and ride?" 

But the little blue creature had vanished up the 
stairs, laughing. 

'That 's the third or tenth or second that has 
gone up,'' David grumbled, and taking his paper, 
he distributed his length across the second step of 
the broad stairs. Another little creature appeared, 
in white this time, but with the same red baskets. 

"Halt !" came from the barricade on the stairs. 
"How many are there of you? I think you 're the 
Iciith.' 

"Just the eighth and ninth," she set him rigid. 
"I'm Tommy and Bessie Evans." 

The little creature planted a foot lightly nn 



David's knee and she, too, vanished up the stairs, 
laughing. 

L'p-stairs, in Rosalie's sitting-room, it was very 
quiet. Hanging from the broad chimney-shelf 
were nine pairs of small black stockings, limp 
and empty. On the hearth little flames were play- 
ing, now hiding behind the great logs, now danc- 
ing out to "tag" some shadow creeping toward the 
small stockings. 

The door opened softh- and cliised again. The 
little flames crouched low. Somebody was com- 
ing, dragging something over the thick rug. 
When the somebody got very near, the little flame 
sprang up and surprised a tall girl in a rose-col- 
ored gown, who carried one red basket and pulled 
a sled behind her. 

The rose-colored girl laughed at the excited 
flames, and proceeded to fill the largest pair of 
stockings with candy and nuts. Then she drew 
the sled under another pair, and an inquisitive 
flame stretched up to read "Jimmy O'Rafferty" on 
the card pinned to the shelf above. A doll came 
out of the red basket and sat down on the shelf 
between two very tiny stockings; next, a scarlet 
automobile ; and last a beautiful big book. Then, 
setting her basket on the sofa, the rose-colored 
girl vanished. 

Soon the door opened again, and the flames 
caught a yellow girl advancing with two red bas- 
kets. She filled two pairs of stockings. Then 
she set a little cradle on the shelf, and beside the 
cradle put a tiny chair, on which she hung some 
tiny garments. A cupboard showing some blue- 
and-white dishes behind its glass doors went on 
the shelf beside the rose-colored girl's doll, and 
above the largest pair of stockings went a woolly 
pink kimono. Then, leaving her baskets on the 
sofa, the yellow girl was gone. 

It was a little blue girl next, with a coronet of 
golden braids. She played her pretty part and 
disappeared like the others, to be followed by a 
girl in red. And last came a slim little girl in 
white, who plumped herself down on the hearth- 
rug, with a big red basket on each side, and 
studied the shelf above. The clock ticked the 
minutes away, and the little flames scolded. 

"Judy!" a voice called outside the door, re- 
proachfully. "You Judy!" The girl on the rug 
jumped up. 

"She said not a word, but went straight to her 
work"; she chuckled softly, and fell to emptying 
her baskets. Soon the little flames were alone 
again with the Christmas treasures. 

But only for a few minutes. Suddenly voices 
called along the halls and up and down the stairs, 
the door swung open, lights flashed up, and the 
room seemed full of girls in bright dresses. A 



238 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



few fathers and mothers hovered in the back- 
ground ; David stood in the door, a great fur coat 
over his arm, cap and goggles in his hand; Santa 
Claus, brave in scarlet and fur, appeared from 
somewhere and took his position by the chimney. 
"Jimmy O'Rafferty — Katy O'Rafferty," he an- 
nounced, grabbing two pairs of chubby black 



Jefferson," he read. "Whar am those picka- 
ninnies?" 

"Heah we is," laughed Rosalie, appearing be- 
side him and holding up the skirt of her yellow 
dress. He laid the stockings in it and added two 
big dolls, a set of dishes, and a little table. 

"Emily Bailey," he called next, and Annette 




bllL l'LL^n■Il.IJ Hl-.kaLLF DOWN ON 'HIE HE.\RTII-KUG, WITH A bIG RED BASKET ON EACH SIDE. 



stockings. "\A'ill Jimmy and Katy please come 
forward ?" 

"I 'm they — thim 's me, I mean," said Mary, 
gathering the stockings into her arm. 

"This sled is Jimmy's," Santa Claus went on, 
"and this doll-carriage with the fine young doll 
in it is Katy's. These fur gloves seem to be for 
Jim." 

Mary piled her gifts on her sled and drew it 
merrily away, while Santa Claus seized the next 
two pairs of stockings. 

"Gladys Louise Jefferson— Helen Clementine 



stepped up to take the single pair of stockings, a 
lovely pink kimono, a work-basket fully equipped 
and stocked with bright silk and muslins, two pic- 
ture-puzzles, and a copy of "Little Women." 

"Why are you only one, you little pig?" Santa 
Claus demanded sternly. 

"Please, sir, because I can never walk," An- 
nette explained, dropping a little curtsy as she 
retreated. 

Then Tommy and Bessie Evans received their 
chosen gifts, and last Katrine, responding to a 
call for Jenny Dolan and Eddie Martin, got a 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



239 



doll, a cupboard of blue-and-white dishes, a pair 
of roller-skates, and a picture-book. 

"Hurry up, now, and let 's get out of this," 
said Santa Claus. "These togs are prett}' hot!" 

"I '11 bring around the car," said David, strug- 
gling into his heavy coat. And when the honk- 
honk was heard out in front five minutes later, a 
little procession of well-wrapped girls bearing 
tissue-decked baskets, with Santa Claus bringing 
up the rear, filed down the walk. 

The young men carefully stowed the five girls, 
the nine baskets, and the one sled in the back of 
the car, and climbed into the front seat them- 
selves, where David hung a string of bells around 
Santa's neck, with "Shake 'em up, Pefe, shake 'em 
up ! We 're a miniature sleigh and eight tiny 
reindeer, you know. All ready, girls?" 

Peter glanced back. "Let her go!" he said, 
and with a honk-honk and a jingle-jingle the 
great car leaped into the night, tossing up a spray 
of snow. 

"The lake road first, Dave," Rosalie called, and 
then no one spoke again, until, with a suddenness 
that set the bells all jingling, they came to a stop 
at the gate of a tiny cottage. Peter jumped out 
and took Judy's baskets. 

"You 're a reely-trooly Santa Claus, remember," 
she pleaded. 

"Sure thing!" he answered, starting for the 
door. "Honk-honk,'' remarked the car, and a 
shade flew up, revealing two childish faces in the 
window. 

"There I am!" Judy whispered. "Look, some- 
body is opening the door." 

It was a little woman in a big white apron, 
holding a lamp in her hand. 

"Come in," she invited pleasantly, and then, 
"Oh, my goodness !" she gasped, and stepped back. 

"What is it, Mother? What is it, Mother?" 
shrill voices cried. 

"Come and see," she laughed. 

They came and stared at the apparition, won- 
der-eyed, clinging to the little mother's skirt. For 
a full minute he bore their scrutiny, smiling in a 
manner most saintly, and then he offered each 
small one a basket. But they only stared. 

"Take them, dear ones," the mother coaxed, 
"and thank Santa Claus." 

Two small hands reached out then, two small 
faces hid behind the white apron. Peter laughed 
and set the baskets on the floor. . 

"Merry Christmas !" he said to the little mother, 
pulling off his pointed hat. 

"Merry Christmas!" she returned, "and thank 
you — oh, thank you!" 

"Oh, don't thank me," he began, "I — " 

"Honk-honk," warned the car, and he retreated 



in haste and climbed into his seat. The big ma- 
chine circled and went purring toward town, 
while a faint "Merry Christmas to all, and to all 
a good-night" floated back to the little group in 
the doorway. 

"The O'Raffert)' house next," said Mary. "This 
sled is a nuisance." 

The O'Rafferty twins were not shy. They were 
for climbing right into the car when it stopped 
at their curb, but their mother caught one by his 
cohar and the other by her braids, which prompt 
action discouraged exploring expeditions. 

"Ain't ye 'shamed?" she scolded. "Thank the 
saint for your sled and your pretty baskets, and 
git along into the house with ye!" 

"Say, Ma, I thought he drove reindeer," Jimmy 
yelled. "And he 's got his family with him, 
Ma!" 

"He has that!" Mrs. O'Rafferty agreed, as a 
shout of laughter came from the car. "!Miss 
Mary, bless your sweet heart, I — " But the car 
was gone. 

"Are n't I just the cutest twins you ever saw!" 
^lary insisted. "\\'here next, girls?" 

It was over at last, and a gay-colored row of 
girls decorated the sofa in the Jessups' hall, 
weary, rather silent, and grateful for the hot 
chocolate which David and Peter were bringing 
to them. 

"Great stunt, that!" Peter approved, keeping a 
watchful eye on Annette's cup. "That little lame 
kid insisted on kissing me." 

"Poor baby!" Mary murmured. Peter regarded 
her with suspicion. 

"Whose idea was it, anyhow?" Dave wanted 
to know. 

"Judy's," said Annette, proudly. 

"Why, I thought it belonged to all of us," 
Rosalie said. 

"It did," Judy nodded, and pinched Annette. 

"No, it did n't," Annette insisted. "It was all 
Judy's, only we would n't let her label it that 
afternoon. Don't you remember?" 

"Wait— let me think," said Rosalie. "Girls, 
Annette is right. Judy has simply manosuvered 
us through this whole thing. This was your 
lovely idea that afternoon, was n't it, Judy? Now 
own up to it." 

Judy only laughed and held her cup out to 
David. 

"Oh, well," said Mary, "I told you we always 
had to do just what Judy wanted us to." 

David lifted high his cup of chocolate. 

"Here 's to Judy's idea !" he proposed. 

The four girls sprang up to drink the pretty 
toast with the young men, while little Judy sat 
still on the sofa, laughing and blinking very fast. 




MERRY LHRIbTMAS TO ALL, AXD TO ALL A GOODNIGHT! 





Oh! holly branch and mistletoe, ;: • 
\ And Christmas chimes where'er w^e go. 
I And stockings pinned up in a row! 
These arc thy gifts, December! 







243 









And iftlic\rar has made Ihcr old. 

A! id siivnrd all Ihv locks of gold. 
■Th\- licart has m \rr been a-eold 

Or kno^.Mi afadiiip-emher. 





€ • 



The \N'holc work! is a Clirisinias tree 
j Aiifl stars its maiiv eandlcs be . 

'1 Oil! sing a carol joyfully 

' The year 's great feast i n keeping ! 




5WiMI«p!pWW>!SW«»r9!!57!l!BnSBR!»^^ 




SmI®>^ For.onccoi) a December nidit 
^M^i^®h An angel held a candle bright. 






^^ And icd three ^\-ise [itcn.bv lis Imht 
P^MJM^-^ 1 where a child was sleeping . 

Harriet F.BIodgcil 












t;:''^^^ 
J^^.-:: 



■J 









,^. J 






fe^S' 









245 



THE BALD BROW CHRISTMAS TREES 




BY CHARLES POOLE CLEAVES 



'=Z^- 



At noon on the fifth da}' of 
December, the three Farns- 
worth hoys completed their 
work of harvesting trees on 
the summit of Bald Brow — a 
"mountain" of no great eleva- 
tion which bears, above the 
bald western slope, some of 
the finest Christmas trees in 
New England. The northern 
half of the mountain is the 
property of the Consolidated Paper Company, 
from whom permission to cut trees was secured. 
The southern half belongs to old Jared Frye, an 
eccentric hermit who has a fancy for raising 
turkeys. Through his private road and past his 
house was the route to the top of Bald Brow. 

The trees were chopped, the butts sawed square, 
and all but the larger were tied in bundles, ready 
for shipping. There was prospect of continued fair 
weather, and a few days' teaming would load the 
car and allow the trees to be shipped in ample sea- 
son. The contract read : "By December fifteenth." 

As they descended the mountain at noon of the 
fifth, the boys were singing and shouting — gay 
with the joy of good work well done and the 
prospect of final success. In the sunny yard of 
the hermit's house the snow had melted, and the 
old man had loosed his turkeys to strut in the 
sun. Unfortunately, a snowball from Mark's 
hand missed Ned's dodging head and flew among 
the turkeys, striking a spotted gobbler, the old 
man's pet and pride, fairly on the wing. With a 
screech the turkey sailed across the yard and the 
boys' etTort to prevent his escape sent him flut- 
tering down the forest road. Frye was not in 
sight, and after a fruitless chase the fowl slipped 
into the woods. The boys, now a considerable 
distance from the house, concluded to let him go 
and trust to his instinct to bring him home. 

But the next day, when they drove their teams 
up the mountain road, they were halted in front 
of Frye's house by a railing fenced across the 
road and a large sign which read: no trespassing. 



il- 




As the permit to pass over 
the premises was merely a 
favor, and not in the nature of 
a contract, they were effectu- 
ally barred out. The Paper 
Company's road, on the north- 
ern slope, was not direct, had 
not been cleared out, and a 
strip of unbroken woods lay 
-^■'^^^^^ ) between its completed part 
and the Christmas trees. 
"Here 's a pretty state of aiTairs !" cried Tom. 
He dropped his reins and whip and strode up to 
the house, his brothers follovifing. The old man 
shuffled to the door in response to his knock and 
listened attentively to his expostulations. 

"Where 's my turkey ?" he asked, when Tom 
paused. 

"I '11 pay for the turkey, sir," replied Tom, 
promptly. "Mark flung a snowball at Ned and it 
hit the turkey and drove him down the road. We 
tried to catch him, but he dodged into the woods. 
He may come home. I 'II pay for him, anyway. 
What better can we do?" 

The old man's eyes narrowed and his lips 
tightened. 

"Find my turkey!" he answered, and closed the 
door. 

The boys faced each other in dismay. Delay 
was serious. Storms, blocked roads, or a thaw 
would hinder teaming. After shipment there 
might be delay on the railroad. 

"We 're fixed !" said Ned, mournfully. 
"Can't we reason with him, or bribe him? We 
must do something," said Mark. 

"It 's of no use," replied Tom. "He 's unrea- 
sonable ; too well off and too proud to be hired. 
We 've got to find that turkey or make a road 
some other way. A pretty tough proposition in 
either case !" 

They turned the teams and drove down the 
forest road to the place wdiere the turkey had 
disappeared. A half hour's floundering in the 
crusty snow proved the folly of the search. The 



246 



CHRIS'l'MAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHIEDl 



:n 



247 



frightened gobbler had fled far into the forest. 
Nothing but snow-shoes would mount the fragile 
crust, and snow-shoeing was hardly possible 
among the shrubbery where the turkey would be 
likely to skulk. If he had not already proved a 
savory feast to some wild beast he might wander 
homeward. If the weather 
turned colder he would 
probably freeze in the forest. 

The bovs returned to 
their teams. 

"It 's of no use," said 
Tom, despondently. "Wait 
a couple of days, and the 
bird may find himself. 
But I '11 write the Paper 
Company for a permit to 
carrv their road through to 
the summit. I believe a 
week's chopping would do 
it, and I am savage enough 
to chop day and night. 
There 's no small part of 
our vear's education tied up 
in those Christmas trees. 
Bovs, we }}iust ship them! 
If the gobbler does n't turn 
up, or the old man relent, 
we must get those trees out 
if we have to hire a crew 
and lose money. W'e can 
make it up next year, and 
it will never do to fail at 
the start, in our contract." 

They passed two uneasy, 
anxious days before they 
returned to the mountain 
and found the turkey still 
missing — the old man still 
obdurate. Meanwhile, a 
thaw had begun. The 
warmth and indolence of 
early spring were in the air, 
as if December were co- 
quetting with April. In the 
village the streets were 
coated with a mere film of 
slush and ice. The moun- 
tain road was fast reduced. 
In the forests the snow was 
settling groundward. The 

boys broke out the Paper Company's road to its 
terminus, and chopped a continuation through the 
intervening strip. It cost them five days of hard 
labor, and even then there was evidence that a 
lack of snow to cover the stumps would make 
sledding impossible. Their hearts and financial 



interests were so much engaged in the Christmas 
tree enterprise that when, on the night of Decem- 
ber thirteenth, they went to bed and listened to 
the drip, drip, of the eaves, Tom groaned invol- 
untarily, and made no reply to Mark's queries. 
I'ut that nicht the wind whisked to the north 




WHERE S M\ TlRIvEY? HC ASKED. 



and blew April four months away. By daylight 
the thermometer had dropped to its record. A 
crust like adamant was spread over the land, 
icing the roads and glazing the snow in field and 
forest. The roads were saved, and it was pos- 
sible that a light fall of snow might soon follow 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHITT.)REN 



248 

and cover the sapling stumps of the extended 
north road sufficiently to make possible the ship- 
ment of the trees by the engaging of several 
teams for doing the work in a day. That snow, 
however, could hardly fall before the fifteenth, 
and Tom rose early to write his Boston retailer a 
statement of the predicament. 

But when he stood in the doorway and gazed 
up the shining slope of Bald Brow, over which he 
had often wished a road could be driven, a 
thought struck him that set him stamping about 
the crust in the dooryard. 

Bald Brow was not a precipice, but a steep, 
rocky slope— too steep for man or horse — which 
was rough and craggy when bare, a mire of snow 
when covered. But Bald Brow coated with a 
solid crust afforded the simplest and most efficient 
means of transporting Christmas trees to the main 
road that skirted the base of the mountain. Any 
bright hoy or man, his wits glowing under the 
stimulus of the bracing mountain air, would wake 
to the idea of sliding the Christmas trees down 
the declivity of Bald Brow. 

They made plans in short order. Tom drew 
conclusions. 

"I '11 shoot the bundles down the slope ! You 
boys must stand down in the field to keep them 
from damaging each other, and draw them down 
to the roadside. A\'e '11 be ready to load them by 
the middle of the afternoon, and with such team- 
ing as this, we '11 have them on the car before to- 
morrow night, and then out they go on the even- 
ing freight." 

To shorten the distance Tom cut through the 
southern woods, toiling up the mountain, over the 
firm crust, with light heart and quick feet. Pass- 
ing behind the hermit's premises he heard a cow 
lowing dismally in her stall. No smoke rose from 
the chimney. There was an air of desolation 
about the scene. Urged more by the importance 
of the day's work than by resentment to Frye, his 
first instinct was to press on. But the mystery 
of the smokeless chimney, the pleading of the 
cow, and the desolateness, woke him to a sense 
of common duty. He approached the house. No 
tracks were visible in yesterday's slush and the 
windows were blinded by thick frost. He knocked 
twice. There was no response and he walked in. 
The room was cold, the stove fireless, and on the 
table, where a meal had been prepared and left 
untouched, the food was frozen. Tom's heart 
thrilled with dread. 

"Mr. Frye! Hello!" 

A muffled shout came from under the floor. 
Tom stooped and flung up the trap-door and 
peered into the darkness. Fie could hear quick, 
anxious breathing. \\'ithout further delay he 



lighted the old man's lantern and started down 
the narrow steps. 

"Look out for that broken stair I" called a sharp 
voice. The strength of it relieved Tom's anxiety. 
He stepped carefully to the bottom of the cellar 
where he found the old man huddled up on the 
plank walk, a few potato sacks wrapped around 
him. His face was drawn, and he moved feebly 
and painfully. 

"Had a tumble," he commented. "I came down 
for butter, and the trap-door dropped on me. Shot 
me down, and I broke a stair and doubled my 
limbs under me. I lost myself, and woke up 
chilly." His mouth twitched grimly in the lan- 
tern-light. "Guess I 'm pretty well bruised — or 
broken. Cold up-stairs, ain't it? I heard the 
wdnd blow, and it 's kinder drafty here." 

"Cold? I guess it is I" exclaimed Tom. He 
started to explain, but the old man cut him short 
impatiently. 

"Well, well. Start a fire in the kitchen and 
then help me git up. It 's warmer down here now." 

Tom thrust Christmas trees out of mind as 
much as the pangs of disappointment would al- 
low, left the old man in the cellar with the trap 
closed, and started a roaring fire in the kitchen 
range. Then he wrapped bedding about him, and 
finding him growing weak and faint, hurried out 
to the stable for an armful of hay with which he 
improvised a couch on the cellar planks. When 
he brought hot coffee, the old man drank it 
eagerly and called for food. He had the grit of a 
hero, but his movements brought forth exclama- 
tions of pain. 

"Can't you feed my cow — and milk her?" he 
asked, eagerly. "Give my turkeys and hens some 
hot mash. They must be about frozen. Let me 
rest till 3'ou take care o' the critters, and the 
house gits warm." 

He sank back on the bedding and waved Tom 
away. Leaving the lantern beside him and clos- 
ing the trap, Tom hurried about the chores. The 
cow was grateful for breakfast and the famished 
fowls gathered stiffly about the scalded meal, and 
a young rooster thawed sufficiently to mount the 
roost and give vent to a long-delayed "Cock-a- 
doodle-doo !" 

Down at the foot of Bald Brow Mark and Ned, 
stamping their feet on the crust and threshing 
their arms, had waited long and impatiently for 
Tom's appearance on the summit. A half hour 
should have brought him in sight. An hour 
passed. They shouted till their voices rang 
through the woods, but there was no reply. At 
last, leaving Ned as sentry, Mark started to follow 
as closely as possible Tom's route through the 
woods. But the tracks on the hard crust were 



CHRISTMAS SI'ol^U'.S 1 'o R OI.DKR CHILI JRI-.N 



249 



indistinct and soon lost, and Mark, after a shorter 
circuit, found liiniself on the clearing at the sum- 
mit with no trace of Tom. He shouted the news 
disconsolately to Xcd. and turned down the moun- 
tain road toward the hermit's house hopin;; to 
learn there some tidings of Tom. 

Xed, deternnncd to cover Tom's path to the 
summit, began a zigzag tour in the forest, gradu- 
ally climbing the hill, shouting and peering into 
every dense covert. Sometimes he discovered 



dr.awn the old man from his dungeon and ar- 
ranged him comfortably in bed — bruised, strained, 
and suffering from the terror of the lonely ni.ght, 
but with no serious injury. Ned's heart leaped 
at the sound of Tum's voice, and he sprang in 
and stood before the group with the final token 
of reconciliation in his arms — the turkey — which, 
with a gratified gobljle, sprang upon the bed. 

"I vow!" was the old man's comment. An 
abashed look and a smile of grateful pleasure 




4R ■ 1' 



,^ - ^' 




^ ♦'SV 



■'ii*AL^ 



-v^^ 



'THE TURKEY, WITH A GRATIFIED GOBBEE, SPRANG UBON THE BED 



Tom's footprints, followed them a few rods, then 
lost them anrl pursued his zigzag tour again. 
Where the sunlight poured down into clearer 
spaces he threshed the chill from his body and 
pressed on. At last, in a clump of firs, an old 
brush camp blocked his path. As he peered into 
it, his eyes blind with the brightness of the snow, 
a rustle in the corner startled him. Drawing 
back, he heard a rjuerulous gobble, the voice of a 
vexed and uncomfortable fowl. It was Jared 
Frye's turkey. 

He grasped the immediate horn of the dilemma, 
and secured the turkey without delay — deter- 
mined to retrieve his snowball blunder. He 
was now so near the hermitage that he decided 
to return the bird, and continue his search — 
hoping, m.eanwhile, to meet Mark. He knocked 
at the kitchen door, stepped into the entry, and 
listened to the voices within. Tom and Mark had 



stole over his face, and he drew his knuckles 
across his eyes. "Here I be, sick and in prison, 
and ye come to heap coals o' fire on my head. 
Say, boys, it ain't too late to hard them trees 
down the mountain, is it?" 

He looked at Tom pleadingly. The project of 
slipping the trees down the slope instead of team- 
ing across his premises even disappointed him, 
but he settled down gratefully over the happy 
outcome, and slept under Ned's ministry, while 
Tom and Mark hurried away to secure additional 
help and an e.xlra team to atone for lost time. 

The trees were shipped next day, landed in 
Boston the twentieth of December, and the gen- 
erous returns were spread far over the following 
months of school life. Next year's shipment — if 
there be no crust on Raid P.row — will pass Jared 
Frye's hermitage ; that has all been arranged. 
There is no crust, now, in the old man's heart ! 




siFB 




BY KATHRYN JARBOE 



The snow was falling in soft, fugitive flakes 
down over the gray land, sifting througli the 
branches of the dark pines on the hillside, slip- 
ping from the carved cornices of the old temple 
in the shadow of the pines, drifting into the 
shrine to touch the gilded image of Buddha that, 
for centuries, had looked unmoved on sun and 
snow alike. For this all happened in Japan. 

In the pretty garden in front of the little mis- 
sionary house, the snowflakes flecked the feathers 
of the bronze crane, rested on the broad back of 
the stone turtle, and heaped themselves upon the 
dwarf cypresses, the miniature hills and dales, 
and tiny little bridges. Almost as unheeded, 
they fell upon little Davy Brewster, who sat 
upon the steps overlooking the garden, his elbows 
on his knees, his chin cuddled into his pink palms. 
The feathery atoms rested on his yellow curls, 
on his little black shoulders, his thin black legs, 
and his shining black shoes. He knew well 
enough that it was snowing : he even watched, 
with moody eyes, one huge flake, bigger than all 
the rest, that sailed on and on, lifting now and 
then as though it were all unwilling to alight in 
the toy garden, as though it would float on across 
to the temple gate, to the golden Buddha itself. 
Davy knew, ton, that it was Christmas eve; that, 
after weeks of weary waiting, Christmas had 
come to every one in his own far-off land. But 
not to him and to his mother. 

lie could hear her chair rocking softly back- 
ward and forward just inside the door. He knew 
just how she looked, silting there in her new 
black gown. TTe knew that if he went in to 
speak to her she would draw him close in her 
arms and whisper : "Oh, Daw, Davyboy !" He 
knew that if he asked her the same question, she 
would give him the same answer: that if he 
asked her if Santa Clans was coming to-night, 
she would say tenderly that there could be no 
Christmas for h.im nr for her, because they were 
left all alnne in the world. He was sure that he 
could kiss her tears away: that if he held hi- 
hands on her cheeks and told her how much he 
loved her, she would stop crying: but he knew, 
oh, yes, he knew \-erv well that wdiat she had said 
was true — that Christmas was not coming to them. 

It was such a little time ago that his father had 
been with them, though, that his father had told 
him that Christmas would come when the snow 



came. Now the white flakes were flying down 
from the sky, nestling everywhere upon the 
ground, but — but it was n't Christmas, it was n't 
Christmas for him. He wondered if it was 
Christmas in the heaven where his father had 
gone. 

The snowflakes fell faster, the gray night 
slipped over the land. The temple bell boomed 
heavily down from the shadowed hill, and its 
waves of magical music rolled across the thatch- 
roofed village, across the fields, away to the luisty 
horizon. Into the silence that trailed behind, the 
child's blue eyes gazed in a new terror of loneli- 
ness. Scrambling to his feet, he fled into the 
house and flung himself into his mother's arms, 
sobbing uncontrollably. 

Mrs. Brewster held him close and whispered: 
"Davy, Davyboy!" For just an instant her tears 
fell on his yellow curls. Only for that instant, 
though, did he forget the promise he had made 
to his father — to be a brave boy. Suddenly 
mindful of it, he cuddled her checks with his 
hands, and kissed the tears from her tired eyes. 

The Christmas sun flung down upon the white 
world a flood of golden light and glory. The 
branches of the pine-trees drooped under their 
burdens; the temple roof was all smooth and 
white and undefiled; the lap of the golden 
Buddha was heaped with snow; the bronze crane 
stood knee deep in, the feathery mass; the stone 
turtle showed only his pointed head. D''.vy, sit- 
ting again on the steps that led down into the 
garden, looked out toward the horizon that was 
shimmering blue and pink and white, and won- 
dered where Christmas did begin, wondered just 
how near to him Santa Claus had come. 

From the horizon his eyes wandered back across 
the village of thatched roofs that lay at the foot 
of the hill. A bright line of vivid color, red and 
blue and green, was moving slowly along the 
snow-covered road that led from the village to 
the hill. Davy knew that it was the children 
from the Mission school wearing their gayest, 
brightest kiinonos. He watched them as they 
tumbled along over the snow in their high stilted 
clogs, and wondered where they were going and 
what they were doing. Then he saw that they 
were climbing the hill, slipping and sliding, but 
always climbing. He heard them laughing and 



CHRISTMAS sroKll-.S I'OR ()L1)|.:R ('111I,|)1^|.:N 2^1 

chattering in their high, shrill voices. All at "It 's Chrrissmus for ever' one, Davysan," he 

once he was tcrrihly afraid that they were com- said at Last. "It 's Chrrissmus for all the world. 

ing to his house. He had not heeu .l.iwn li. the ^",,iir fallua-, Revera lirewsler, sai.l it 's Chrriss- 

Mission since his father had gone away; he had nuis fi)r ever' one." 

not seen any of the children since then, .ami his "Ihit not for Muvver and me," answered Davy, 
only impulse was to run into the house and hide, shaking his head again. " 'Cause we 're all alone. 
He did not move, though, and soon the line of Christmas could n't come to us, 'cause father 's 
boys and girls, looking like giant hirds and hut- died and we 're all alone in fapan." 
terflies of brilliant plumage, filed ahmg the gar- "Revera Rrewster said—'" Otoyasan stopped. 
den path, past the bronze stork, past the turtle's It was hard to remember the words, harder vCt 
head, past all the tiny little bridges and tiny to repeat them. "Revera Brewster said," he he- 
trees. Their faces were gra\-e, their voices were gan agam detenuiiiediv, "that Chrrist love all 




% % 



' D.-VVY HI-;..\RD THEM L.\UGHING AND CHATTERING IN THEIR HIGH, SHRILL VOICES, 



hushed as they looked up at the somber little boy 
sitting on the steps. They huddled close to- 
gether, each trying to hide behind his neighbor, 
all save a Japanese boy called Oto\-asan. He was 
but a few years older than Daw and had been a 
constant companion of the small American lad. 

Otoyasan bowed low and all the line of his 
little followers ducked their heads in greeting. 

"Good morning!" Davy spoke gravely and re- 
turned the low salute with an awkward little bow. 

"Mer' Chrrissmus!" cried Otoyasan. The 
other children tried to echo the strange words. 

"It is n't Christmas here, Otoyasan." Davy 
stood up now and rammed his small clinched fists 
deep into his tiny pockets. "It can't be Christ- 
mas for Muvver and me." 

Otoyasan looked at him curiously, rubbed his 
hands together and, for a moment, did not speak. 



the world. He said Chrrist love us ever' day. 
We must love Chrrist e\'er' dav. We must love 
ever'body ever' day; but Chrrissmus Day we 
slioz^i Chrrist we hive him by make ever'body 
happy. We sa}' ']\Ier' Chrrissmus ever'body!' we 
give presents ever'body." Otoyasan paused and 
looked at Davy. He had not remembered all the 
words of the Reverend David Brewster. He had 
not repeated them even as he remembered them. 
"We lig you, Davysan," he went on with sudden 
flesperation. "We bring you present." He 
drew from his long scarlet sleeve a tiny sami- 
sen and laid it on the steps near Daw's feet. 
Kear it he placed a small gray fan. "For her," 
he murmured, nodding toward the door of the 
house. "We lig her, too, Davvsan." 

The orator of the day had spoken. The pre- 
sentation of his gifts was the signal for which his 



2S2 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



followers had waited. Now they crowded close 
about Davy, each laying his or her gift for the 
boy on the step near Otoyasan's samisen, each 
putting some small article near the fan that was 
meant for Mrs. Brewster. To Davy, they had 
brought paper fish and animals, wooden traj's 
and boxes, thin rice-cakes and colored sugar 
wafers; to Mrs. Brewster, bits of silk and parch- 
ment painted with birds and flowers and a great, 
white paper lotus-blossom. For a moment Davy 
stood and looked at the little party-colored group 
of children. Then he turned toward the house. 

"Muvver, Muvver!" he shouted, "Christmas 
has come to us, after all! See, we 're not alone 
any more!" Fie pointed not to the gifts but to 
the children. "Muvver, they are our Christmas!" 



For only an instant did Mrs. Brewster hold 
her hands close pressed against her eyes. Then 
she knelt down on the veranda. 

"Davy, Davyboy," she whispered. "Indeed, 
it is our Christmas — the dearest Christmas that 
could be, because — because He sent it to us." 

A ray of sunlight slipped through a rift in the 
temple roof and lay full on the golden Buddha, 
on the folded hands, on the downcast lids, on the 
lips that smiled in an eternal peace. In the same 
sunlight knelt the American mother, one arm 
about her own boy, the other holding close a 
little Japanese lad in his gay scarlet kimono. 
"Peace on earth, good-will to men and love 
eternal," she murmured. The lesson had been 
taught and learned and taught again. 




MUVVEK, Mi:VVEK! ' HE SHOUTED, ' CHRISTMAS 



HAS CCME TO US, AFTER ALL I' 




The Skipper's Lad 



A Christmas Tale 

By Arthur Upson 

Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs 

NOTE. — There was formerl\- a suptrstition among W'elsli sailrirs lliat, if their \'oyage found tiiem at sea 
on Christmas E\*e, theywould be liaunted witli strange fears until tlicy remembered tlie Xightwith a carol. 



Black night, and biting keen, it was, 
For \\ inter swept the sea ; 

The Skipper and the Bo's'n's mate 
Aboard the Jane MiJi^ee 

They heard the Bo's'n's wliistle sound 
Aloft so clieerlessly. 



" What may this be ? " Tom Wiggins cried ; 
" Tlie sea-mist creeps and crowds, 
And o'er the port rail 1 did see 

Strange shapes among the clouds." 
" And hark! " old Tompkins answered low, 
" There 's creaking in the shrouds!" 



The Jane Mai;ee of Portland Town 
Bent through the gliding mist ; 

Whate'er she rode on lay unseen, 
Anid all around was whist ; 

It was as though when night came on 
All sound had been dismissed. 



I've sailed through storms," spoke trusty Bill, 
" From Hatteras to Belle Isle; 
But rare the gale that, ere she broke, 

Held not like this a while." 
They saw the Skijjper's lad look up — 

T'hen smiled to see him smile. 



Now all was well, above, below, 
Yet down the night had closed 

So dreary in the first dogwatch 
The sailors scarce reposed 

As in their fo'c's'le bunks they lay 
And dozed and woke and dozed. 



VI 

" You laugh, my lad," the old tar cried • 
" There 's sommat on your tongue. 
Heave sail, and let 'er ha^-e the wind, 

And so your song be sung! " 
Then clear the lad's sweet voice arose 

And round the cabin rung. 



254 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



VII 

''Come, messmates, let us have a song. 

Together, every man ! 
At home the Yule log burns; at sea 

Let 's show the Night we can 
Keep Christmas cheer as merrily 

Here off the Grand Menan. 



VIII 

" My father walks the deck to-night, 
My mother 's on the land; 

A fortnight 't is we left her there 
Against the yellow sand; 

She had a red cap on her head, 
A kerchief in her hand. 




CHRISTMAS STORIKS Vo\l OLDKR CHILDRKN 



255 




Menan ! " 



"I Stood astern and signaled back 
A-leaning from the rails; — 

And well I cherish all her lore 
And all the old sea-tales 

She told me, from the store she had 
Of her kin back in Wales. 



" 'Davy' — says she — 'this Christmas Eve 

Will find you on the main ; 
The carol that I sang for you, 

Oh, sing it there again, 
Remembering the Holy Night, 

Nor shall it be in vain! 



256 



CHRISTMAS STORIES I-OK Ol.UKR CHILDREN 



' 'For oft' — says s]ic — 'b\- night I've heard 

My poor okl father sa\" 
His ship and erew once hung in spell 

Without Caernnarthen Bav: — 
Bethought him 'twas the eve of Yule, 

And carolled it awa\-.' 



"Goii rest voii. merry goiflciucn, 

Wherever you may be : 
God rest \ou all In field or hail 

Or on the stormy sea: 
for on this morn our Christ was born 

Tliat sac'eth- you and me!" 



■'So, sailor lads, pipe all hands round 
And set yonr voices free. 

For I propose a cheerv song 
Upon the Christmas sea, 

To hail the blessed evening 
Of our Lord's Xativit\' !'' 



XVI 

They sing as only sailors sing 

Before the capstan-bars. 
Or high amid the rigging 

For their audience of stars — 
And as thev sing the mists break way 

And scatter round the spars ! 



■'Three cheers for Dave, our Skipper's lad 
The sturdy voices cried ; 
The cabin timbers rang again 

And shook from side to side; 
The watch up in the crow's-nest heard — 
''Three cheers!" his heart replied. 



Then, through the sudden rift, a sharp 

(ireat golden radiance ran 
To melt around the good ship's prow. 

And in anothpr span 
Lo, full upon its rock appeared 

The Light of Grand Menan ! 



XIV 

And then in tones full rich and strong 
A well-known hxnm they raise — 

A simple carol all had known 
In boyhood's homelv daws. 

The Skipper feels the air less keen, 
Less chill the circling haze. 



XVIII 

The night was clean of mist as noon, 
And all the stars hung free: — 

The Skipper's lad rode sailor-back 
To music of their glee 

Till eight bells called the sta'board watch 
That Christmas Eve at sea. 




"The Sku'pkk's Lad Rode Saii,ok-Back to Music of Their Glee. 




w^ 



HOUYJVYBAY 

BY EDITH /n. THOMAS 



■ linM- "^'" 



Tliere is a pretty, old-English tradition that at Christmas 

tide eK'es and fairies may mingle with humankind in 

the festivities, and the holly, bays, and ivy are 

hung th.it the fays may hnd hlding-[>laces 



V\Ki-;.\TnE the holly, wreathe the bay, 

I\\', ti3i3, fur Christmas day; 

Holly, ivy, bay — these three, ■ 

Ever boon to Faery be. 

Hark! that tapping on the pane — 
T is not sleet, anii 't is not rain, 

AntJ those tiny fluteti notes 

Like the cries from fledgling throat^ ' 

Harken to the growing din, 

"Let us Little People in!" 
Let them look on our Noel, 
Here a twelvenight let them dwell — 
Dancers in the ferny dell, 
Housed in hyacinthine bell. 
With those homelier elves that keep 
Busy while the housewives sleep, 
Deft with sickle or with fan. 
Heaping up the harvest-van — 
All the merry, soulless clan, 
Soulless, yet good friends to man ! 
Let the Little People share 
In our loving Christmas fare 
'Mid the holly darkly green 
Mid the ivies, though unseen 
'Mid the wreaths of gloss\ ba> — 
Let them shelter, elf and fa\ 
And the chilly wood-sprites all. 
From their unroofed elmen hall ' 
List, again, that small s\\ect dm 
"Let us Little People m ' 





(A True Story of Christinas in River Street.) 



T will surprise you to hear that Ted was 
eight years old before he ever hung up 
his stocking or knew anything about Santa 
Claus. The reason for this sad state of 
things was that Ted lived 'way down town 
111 in River street. Santa Claus does not 
go to that part of the city, — that is, he 
did not go before Ted was eight years old. 
It happened then that some young college 
women moved into No. lo, and Ted went to call 
upon them. Many children called, played games, 
and read picture-books, and some belonged to 
"clubs" at this house. They told Ted about it, 
and he followed as soon as he could walk so far 
on his crutch. 

It was easy now for him to go quite fast, be- 
cause he had had his crutch a long time; he could 
hardly remember when he did not need it. The 
very first thing he did remember was lying in a 
white bed, not at all like his own bed at home, 
and soon after he began to use his crutch, and 
was always left behind by the other children run- 
ning to fires and to the police-station. After a 
while he could go faster, but he often lost his 
breath and had to sit down to rest, so he passed 
much of his time alone, and did not grow big and 
strong. In fact, he was the very thinnest and 
smallest boy of his age on River street, and that 
is saying a great deal. 

The first day that Ted called at the "big house," 
as the children named it. happened to be the day 
before Christmas. It was twilight, and two men 
were carrying in a very tall spruce-tree fixed in 
a stand. Before the door closed, Ted had slipped 
in like a cat and stood looking curiously at the 
greens on the walls, the low table and chairs, and 
the big boxes in the room where they set down 
the tree. What it all meant he did not know at 
first, but he had seen such trees on the sidewalk 
in just such boxes, and an idea came to him 
slowly that they had a festive significance. The 
room was warm and bright, a large flag hung at 
one end between the windows, and there were 
colored prints on the walls. Ted found many 
things to look at, and, soon becoming tired, sat 



down on one of the small chairs to enjoy them 
at leisure. He did not feel like an intruder, be- 
cause there were many other children looking on, 
and the lady who was hanging up wreaths and 
crosses did' not notice him. He spoke to her 
first; his impatience got the better of his shyness, 
and when she came down from the high ladder 
he went up to her and said in a piping voice : 

"Please, Missis, w'en does this concit begin?" 

The lady smiled, but did not reply immediately. 
She held out her hand in greeting to the new 
guest, and Ted placed his grimy little left hand 
in it in a very awkward way, for no one had ever 
taught him how to shake hands. Then she said 
she was glad to see him and asked him his name. 
She told him hers; it was Miss Miles. Ted looked 
at her sharply, and he decided to tell her. 

"Ted McFinley," he said; and then asked again, 
"W'en does this concit begin ?" 

"Well, Ted," said Miss Miles, very sociably, 
"I am sorry if you are disappointed, but we are 
not going to have a concert here." 

"Wot 's them for, then ?" asked Ted, pointing 
to the tree and the greens. "I seen them onct 
where a concit was, and I stood outside. I 'd 
come an' stan' here, too, if yer had concits. 
There 's nice singin' at concits. But if yer don't, 
— why, wot 's the good of them?" 

Miss Miles drew a long breath ; she hardly knew 
where to begin. 

"We think the greens look pretty," she said; 
"and the tree is for Santa Claus. To-morrow is 
Christmas day, you know." 

Ted nodded his head, but there was one ob- 
scure point, and he did not mean to let it go. 

"Wot 's Sandyclaws?" he asked. He put his 
difficulty all in one word, but it took a great many 
to answer it. Fortunately, Miss Miles felt equal 
to this question, and she told him the dear old 
story, winding up with the astonishing statement 
that this wonderful being was coming there that 
very night for the purpose of filling the stockings 
of good children. Ted had never heard anj'thing 
like this before, but Miss Miles spoke with such 
assured faith that he felt it must be true, and he 



258 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



259 



was puzzled as to whether he helonged among the 
elect. To his great delight her next words de- 
cided this question, 

"Would you like to hang up voiir stocking, 
Ted?" she asked, moved by his pitiful ignorance 
of Christmas pleasures. 

"Yes," said Ted, heartily, tugging at the shoe 
of the well foot, meaning to leave the ragged 
stocking he had on. Miss Miles gcnth' stopped 
him; she had a queer sort of smile just then, Ted 
thought, and she spoke verv softlv. 

"Oh, no," she said; "Santa Claus likes clean 
stockings, Teddy. Get your mother to wash and 
mend one for you. Then bring it to me." 

She did not give him a new stocking, vou see, 
because the College Settlement in River street is 
not an almshouse, and does not wish to make 
paupers of its neighbors. Ted stared at her, but 
he soon found voice to say : 

"I ain't got any mother. Dad and me lives 
alone. I does the washin', and I kin git )'er a 
clean one, if yer wait till I come back." 

He hurried awav on his crutch and he hurried 
back; but bv the time he returned the children 
had all been sent home, and Miss Miles sat alone, 
dressing a big doll. She heard him coming, and 
opened the door herself, so Ted had no hesitation 
about entering quite boldly. Under his jacket 
was the stocking; he drew it out before he had 
breath to speak. It was a long, coarse gray stock- 
ing recentl}- washed and stiffened in the icy air 
in which it had been hung up to dry. It had in 
the knee a great hole, which had been hastily drawn 
up by Ted's over-and-over stitches, and in the toe 
was a smaller one which he had not noticed. 

"Will it do?'' asked the owner, eagerly. "The 
other one blowed away. I 'm so sorry, for I 
wanted to hang it up for Kitty. She 's my sister. 
She ain't z'crv good ; but she 's good to me, an' 
they 've took her to the Juv'nile 'Sylum. She 
never knowcd nothin' about that Sandyclaws, or 
maybe she 'd been better. Do you think he '11 go 
'way up to the 'sylum?" 

"Tell me more about Kitty," said Miss Miles, 
gently; "but first let us go down-stairs and get 
some tea. I 'm getting hungry — are n't you?" 

"Yts," said Ted, "I 'm hungry a good deal. 
But," he added, as they went down together, "I 
did n't s'pose you ladies ever was." 

"But they often are, Ted ; and they get untidy, 
too, working all day. Would n't it be nice to 
wash our hands before tea?" 

Ted scarcely had time to decide this question, 
before he found his hands and face undergoing a 
washing. He submitted with pretty good grace, re- 
flecting that the ceremony might have something 
to do with conciliating the mysterious Sandyclaws. 



"y\nd now, Ted," said his hostess, when she 
had helped him to the good, plain food before 
them, "tell me about Kitty, and wc '11 see what 
can be done about a Christmas stocking for her. 
How old did you say she was ?" 

"I don't know 'xactly," said Ted; "but she ain't 
fourteen. I heard the folks say once that she 'd 
git good, too, up to the 'sylum. But it ain't for 
good children ; and I guess yer can be pretty bad, 
even if yer ain't fourteen. I think if Kitty got 
something in a stockin' — I tell yer, I '11 come 
early to-morrow and take her mine, if yer think 
Sandyclaws would n't mind. I 'm goin' to see her 
on Christmas. Dad says so." 

"Oh, we '11 do better. I '11 lend you a stocking; 
and I do believe there '11 be something in it, too," 
cried Miss jMiles, with conviction. 

"Do yer really?" asked the child. "But how 
will he know it 's for Kitty?" 

"We '11 put her n.ame on it, Ted. You yourself 
shall hang it up, and then you must go home, or 
what will }'our father say?" 

"Dad? Why, he won't know it. He does n't 
come home nights," said the boy as composedly 
as if such were the common habit of fathers; 
"and he '11 be sleepin' when I come here in the 
mornin'. But I '11 tell him some day, mebbe, if 
he happens to be feelin' good and speaks kind to 
me." 

No fitting reply came to Miss Miles. She was 
puzzled, as she had often before been puzzled as 
to particular applications of the Fifth Command- 
ment down in I-iivcr street, and she returned to 
the safer topic of Christmas .gifts. She hazarded 
guesses as to what Santa Claus might have in his 
pack for boys of — say, nine, and girls of thirteen; 
and she fovmd Ted firmly convinced that, what- 
ever else might be wanting, there would be "a 
watch that wound up," and plenty of gay ribbons. 
The hole in the toe of his stocking disconcerted 
him somewhat when he discovered it; but he 
brightened up upon thinking it might be stopped 
by putting in an apple first. "Or a orange," he 
suggested happily. "I never had a whole orange, 
and Kitty would like that best. I hope he 's got 
oranges. Do you think, now, be 'd jest as lief 
give Kitty a orange?" 

Miss Miles thought so indeed. She treasured 
his unselfish hints as to what would please his 
sister; and he preferred to talk of her gifts rather 
than of his own. 

At last the stockings were hung to his entire 
satisfaction, a paper was pinned on Kitty's, bear- 
ing her name, and Ted went home radiant, to 
dream of a wonderful giant with long, white 
beard, who brought Kitty back in a sleigh drawn 
by eight prancing circus ponies. 



260 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



Now, Santa Claus had already come to River 
street. He did not come in the usual way, through 
the chimney. He came through the hearts and 
hands of some little girls in a school up-town 
who knew that he thought of going to River 
street and would need a great many toys. There 
are more little children in one house in River 
street than in a block of houses up-town, and it 
would be out of the question for one Santa Claus 
to supply all .their wants; so these little girls 
formed a "Santa Claus Society,'' and as a result 
two large packing-cases full "of books and toys 
"as good as new" stood in the hall of No. lo, 
awaiting the arrival of the children's saint. These 
Miss Miles and her friends opened as scon as 
Ted had gone ; and such a lot of pretty things 
came to light ! It would take too long to name 
half of them; and, indeed, it took a very long 
time to unpack them, because the children them- 
selves had done the packing. Each parcel was 
wrapped up separately with a great many wind- 
ings of cord, and upon many of them were di- 
rections as to destination. Most of the children 
had evidently wished that virtue should get its 
material reward in River street just as in the 
story-books, for they had written on the wrap- 
pers, "For a good girl," "For a good boy," or 
"For a girl who tells the truth," "For an honest 
boy," carefully specifying the age of the recipient. 
Some few had written out names for the dolls. 

Among other odd-looking packages was a small 
square one wrapped in pink tissue-paper and tied 
with bright green ribbon. Under the ribbon lay 
a sheet of note-paper folded several ways, and 
when it was opened it read: 

Dere Santy Cl.\us 

i want you to give this to sum wun that has to keep 
still like mee cos its lots of compinny. 

Respeckfly yurs 

P. .S. Aint the case splendid? Clara. 

910 Jefison A\'enoo. 

There it was ! In a gorgeous plush watch-case 
the prettiest toy watch you ever saw. 

"As if on purpose to reward Ted's faith," ex- 
claimed Miss Miles; "and from some unselfish 
little soul who thinks of others just as he does. 
If people only knew how near Jefferson Avenue 
and River street really are — " 

"They 'd understand the New Testament then," 
rejoined her brisk Boston ally, "and there might 
be less work for you. But we must hurry on if 
this work is to be done to-night." 

\^ery late that night it was done. The tree 
hung full of gifts, the tables were covered with 
packages, and Ted's stockings were stuffed full. 

The dwellers at No. 10 slept late after their 



labor, and Ted had patrolled the block opposite 
a long, weary time before Miss Miles came to 
the window on Christmas morning and discovered 
him leaning against the railing, his face very 
pallid and tired, and his large brown eyes fixed 
intently upon the house door, lest he should miss 
a chance to enter. It would never have occurred 
to him to ring the bell. He lived in a tenement- 
house where the door stands open all the time. 

When she saw him. Miss Miles pushed up the 
window and beckoned to him. 

During that dreary time of waiting on the street, 
Ted had begun to doubt the beautiful story of 




TED S CHRISTMAS MORNING. 

last night, and even the event of his visit seemed 
vague and unreal. The awful thought which 
comes to us all, when some great pleasure is 
promised to us, — that it may be too good to be 
true, — had come to Ted. 

"I might 'a' dreamed it," he said to himself, 
"or I might 'a' thought about it, settin' down to 
rest." But no ; he felt sure he could n't have 
done that; such a flight of imagination was far 
beyond his powers. 

So he held on bravely to the faith in Santa 
Claus which he thought necessary to the filling 
of Kitty's stocking. 

Taking the end of a loaf of bread which had 
been put on the shelf for his breakfast, he went 
down three flights of stairs to the common hy- 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDIiR CHILDREN 



261 



drant and sink, and there waslied his face as well 
as he could, before tasting a crumb. The water 
was cold, and there was, of course, no soap nor 
towel. It was very disagreeable, this first morn- 
ing bath, and one cannot blame Ted for thinking 
it a hard way to begin the dav. Shivering in his 
scanty clothing, he then started out, gna«'ing his 
dry bread. No wonder it had seemed to him al- 
most noon before the kind face of last night 
looked out upon him. 

Miss Miles could not know all this ; but she did 
know that the children in her neighborhood had 
a strong objection to ringing the bell, and she re- 
proached herself for keeping the poor little fel- 
low waiting in the chill air while she had been 
eating her breakfast. It had never crossed her 
mind that he would come so earlv, and hurrNing 
down she brought him in to a good, warm fire 
and proposed that he should have something to 
eat. Ted looked at her wonderingly. So elated 
was he with expectation that he had no sense of 
cold or hunger. It was all real now — if only the 
rest would come right. There was one question 
he must ask ; it had worried him since daylight, 
and caused him many anxious doubts. He put it 
directly in a shrill whisper with anxious haste: 

"Oh, jMissis, did he put the things in Kitty's 
stocking ? I went and told you she was n't good, 
and mebbe he beared me. I did n't mean it a bit, 
but he — oh, he brung 'em to her jest the same, 
did n't he ?" 

The only replv was, "Come and see." 
And when he did see, his heart was too full for 
speech. There hung the stockings, bulging out 
in strange shapes, and near them hung some 
warm underclothing for Ted, such as he had 
never before owned. Ted took down Kitty's 
stocking very carefully, and sat down to investi- 
gate. First a pair of red mittens, then two bright 
hair-ribbons, two handkerchiefs, a cornucopia of 
candy. In the heel was the precious orange, 
while nuts, figs, and raisins filled the toe. 

The happy brother drew a long sigh of satis- 
faction. He had not hoped for so many gifts. 
Surely Kitty would be good now and come home 
again to him, so that he need not sit alone. He 
folded up each article neatly and replaced it in 
her stocking before he touched his own. He, too, 
had mittens, the candy, and the orange, and be- 
sides he had an easy game and a bright picture- 
book ; but beyond all else he had the watch ! It 
was a wonderful watch. When it was wound up 
the hands began to travel around the face with 
such expedition that they made the entire circuit 
in about fifteen minutes. The works then ran 
down, and you had all the pleasure of winding it 
up anew. Every little boy knows that the best 



part of owning a watch is winding it up, so this 
was the very best kind of a watch a little boy 
could own. Under the spell of possessing it, Ted 
smbmitted to a warm bath, with plenty of soap 
and towels, this time, and then put on the com- 
fortable clothing. It was rather hard to have so 
much washing and dressing in one morning, but 
then for a watch one can stand a great deal. It was 
soon over, and away went Ted, hugging his trea- 
sures ; and I am very glad to say that not one of 
the rough children about thought of molesting him. 

Two days passed away. A heavy snow had 
fallen on Christmas night, and his new friends 
supposed he could not travel through it. On the 
third day at twilight he came, slipped in as he 
had done the first day, and silently waited for 
Miss ]\Iiles. To no one else would he speak. She 
was soon found, and came to him ; but, looking 
at him closely, was shocked by a great change. 

"Why, Ted," she exclaimed, "how ill 3'ou are ! 
Why did you come out this raw day, you poor 
child ? Sit down and restawhilebeforeyoutell me." 

"I can't," said the child, faintly, holding out a 
small folded wad; "I jest came to bring you 
Kitty's stocking. I washed it, and I was 'fraid 
Sand^xlaws would think I kep' it ; but I fell down 
two times trj-in' to come here yesterday. I 've 
been orful tired sence, and I guess I must stay in 
bed. I want to tell you that Kitty liked the 
things. She liked the watch best, an' I gave it to 
her, an' she sed she 'd be real good, 'cause now 
she knowed there was Sandyclaws. An' oh, 
Missis, it 's nice up to the 'sylum ! I 'd like to go 
too, only she did n't hang up no stocking, and — 
s'pose you had n't !" 

He paused from sheer fatigue. His interest in 
the subject had borne him on through this long 
speech, and he had more to say, but he did not 
say it then. A sort of shiver passed over him, he 
grew dizzy, and the next thing he knew he was 
lying in a little wdiite bed, just like the bed he 
used to lie in so long ago. There were many 
other children in beds near him, and, after awhile, 
when he grew better they all began to talk to- 
gether, and it was very pleasant and sociable. 

When he could once more use his crutch, and 
was fearing they would send him back to that 
desolate room he called his home, a great thing 
happened. ]\Iiss Miles brought to see him a cer- 
tain learned doctor who knew all about lame peo- 
ple, and by his advice Ted was taken to the 
"Home for Crippled Children" just beyond the 
city. There he is now, growing stronger and 
larger, and already talking of Christmas and of 
what he knows Sandyclaws is going to bring. 
For himself? Yes, sometimes; but far oftener 
he talks of gifts for Kitty. 




L, tc„„..MOo .( t. W . F.ulkncr ^ Lo., Ltd.. L„„do„, e. C, England, owners o: 



■CHRISTMAS CAROLS/ 



f the copyrig-ht. 
BY SYDNEY KENDRICK. 



362 



THE DOLL THAT SANTA CLAUS BROUGHT 



BY KATHARIN]' CARRINGTON 



On the stoop of a city house stood a httle p;irl. 
Her thoughts were filled with Santa Claus. and 
the wonderful things he would bring her. 

But Maude was thinking more of Santa Claus 
himself than of his gifts, and a determination to 
see the dear old man who loved children so, and 
who had been so kind to her, filled her little head. 
i\nd in its wake came the determination to see 
him that very night. "For," thought Maude, "so 
kind an old gentleman will not reallv be dis- 
pleased with me for wanting to thank him for 
the toys he has brought." And she smiled to 
think how astonished papa would be in the morn- 
ing when she told him what Santa Claus had said. 

So she went into the library, where papa sat 
smoking, and waiting to bid his little girl good 
night. Together they hung the Christmas stock- 
ing, and the little heart beat fast as she pictured 
Santa Claus standing where her father stood, on 
the hearth-rug just opposite the great window. 

She went to bed dreaming of the coming inter- 
view, and meaning to lie awake until Santa Claus 
came; but soon the waking dreams became real 
ones, and jMaude slept in her cozy little bed. 

In another quarter of the great citv, a squalid 
quarter where Maude had never been, lived a 
ragged, hungry little girl, who had never heard 
of Santa Claus until to-day. Her home was a 
basement room, scantily furnished, and unhealed; 
but as she stood on the step, cold, hunger, everv- 
thing was forgotten in the rapture that had been 
imparted to her by a dirty little urchin, as cold 
and hungry as herself. For Maggie had listened 
with bated breath while he told her about a won- 
derful old man named Santa Claus, who had lived 
for hundreds of years, and who loved children so 
that he had a mysterious workshop where he 
made beautiful toys for them. And Bob had told 
her that this very night Santa Claus would har- 
ness his reindeer to his sleigh, and would ride 
through the snow to the city, bringing somethin.g 
to every child. "Even to us, Maggie ; to you and 
to me ! Only you must hang up yer stockin', or 
he won't know as you wants an}-think, and then 
he won't stop." 

And Maggie was in raptures. Perhaps he 
would bring her a doll ! And head and heart 
were so full of the pictured dolly that she did not 
see her tired father, who had been all day unsuc- 
cessfully seeking work. 

He spoke to her, and she started, and remem- 



bered how cold it was, and that there was almost 
n(]thing tii eat in the house, and she went quickly 
and helped prepare the scanty meal, and when he 
had sat down to it she told him. The great news 
could be kept no longer. And when he looked at 
her so sadly, she was too absorbed in thoughts of 
Santa Claus to notice it. She sat on the old, 
broken-down stool, and pictured to herself a 
doll. 

"And there is where she will standi" she said; 
"and she will have golding curls, anrl a red gownd 
with a long trail, like the one I seen in the shop, 
and a big hat with a white feather sweepin' round 
it, and lace on her gownd, and a string of gold 
beads on her neck, and red shoes and stockin's. 
And oh, when I wakes in the morning, there she 
will stand ! And I will call her Evangerliner, 
and it will be grand — just grand!" and Maggie 
clapped her blue little hands and danced for joy. 

Her father sat very still, and she went on with 
her talk: "And I must take off my stockin' and 
hang it up by a pin to the wall, or he will think 
I don't want anythink. That foot will be dretful 
cold to-night, but I ain't got no other stockin's, 
and I can stand it for just one night." 

Anrl off came the ragged stocking, and Maggie 
pinned it up against the wall, where it would greet 
her opening e_\es ; then, running quickly to her 
bed, pulled the thin quilt over her, and shut her 
eyes tight, that morning might come the sooner. 

The man sat for a time with his head in his 
hands, the great tears falling between his fingers, 
and when he raised his head his eyes were hard. 
Taking his hat, he walked out of the house. He 
went directly to the rich quarter of the city. As 
he tramped along, his attention was arrested by 
the soft glow of firelight shining through an un- 
shaded window. He drew near and looked in, 
and something seemed to grip his throat, for 
there, directly facing him in the glare of the fire- 
light, among a multitude of books and toys, stood 
the doll of Maggie's imagination — "red gownd, 
sweepin' feather, gold necklace," and all, just as 
Maggie had pictured her ! 

Maude opened her bright eyes and sat up in bed 
to listen. Yes ! There was certainly a noise in 
the library. Santa Claus had come I So, with 
beating heart, she slipped out of bed very quietly, 
and crept down the stairway, and, opening the 
door of the library, tripped softly in. ^'es, there 
he was ! Books and toys were grouped about the 



263 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



264 

hearth, and he was bending over a big doll in a 
long red frock. 

"Oh, Mr. Santa Claus," she said, "I want to 
thank you for all the pretty things you have 
brought me; and please do not be angry with me, 
dear Mr. Santa Clans, because I love you so!" 

The figure holding the doll stood erect and 
wheeled about. 



I won't, if you '11 just be quiet and not call any- 
body." 

"No," said Maude ; "I won't call my father, be- 
cause I know you don't like people to see you. 
That doll is just lovely, but you may have it, if 
you will give it to that little girl who has no doll, 
for I have a great many, you know. And are you 
going now, and may I see you go, and will you 




' MAGGIE'S FATHER SAT VERY STILL, AND SHE WENT ON WITH HER TALK. 



"Why!'' cried Maude, "are you Santa Claus? 
I did n't know Santa Claus looked like that ! I 
thought he was fat and rosy and jolly; and you 
are thin and poor-looking, and your eyes — your 
eyes frighten me ! Oh, if you please, Santa 
Claus, don't be angry ! I am very sorry, and I 
did n't know you would mind what I said. I 
did n't think !" 

Tlie color came into the man's face, and he 
said in a low, shamed voice: "I ain't angry, little 
girl; only I was just thinkin' of takin' this 'ere 
doll to another little girl as ain't got no doll. But 



go up the chimney? I never supposed Santa 
Claus could look like you, or that he would talk 
like you, either. I think I am sorry I saw you," 
and tears came into the earnest eyes, "because 
I loved you so much before. But I will try 
to like you, Santa Claus, because you are so 
good." 

The man's face grew red again as the child 
spoke, and he hesitated; but his eyes feh on the 
dainty stocking crammed with Christmas goodies, 
and he thought of that other stocking, hanging 
thin and empty opposite Maggie's bed, and he 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



265 




"'why!' cried MAUDE, 'ARE YOU SANTA CLAUS? I DID NT KNOW SANTA CLAUS LOOKED LIKE THAT!'' 



■walked with the rJoll in his arms toward the win- 
dow. 

''Oh," cried IMaude, "are )'0U goins^ — and out 
of the window? I thought vou would go up the 
chimney ! I thought Santa Glaus always went up 
the chimney !" and Maude was ready to cry again. 

But the man was gone. He had climhed out of 
the window, and was lost in the darkness without. 



Feehng queer and frightened, Maude turned 
without a glance at the toys scattered over the 
carpet, and crept back to bed, where she sobbed 
herself to sleep. 

The ne.xt morning Mr. Page was much dis- 
turbed by the open window and the missing rloll, 
as well as by Maude's listlessness over her gifts; 
for Maude could not bear to tell even papa what 



266 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



a dreadful man Santa Claus was, and she hugged 
her grief in silence. But soon all was made clear. 
The butler announced a man to see Mr. Page, and 
when he entered, Maude, who sat on her father's 
knee, sprang up, exclaiming, "Why, it 's Santa 
Claus !" 

"No, miss," said the man. at once; 'T ain't 
Santa Claus." 

And then, speaking rapidly, he told Mr. Page 
the whole story of Maggie's happy expectancy, 
and her empty stocking ; of the open window, and 
the doll like the one of Maggie's fancv : how 
Maude's trust had shamed him; "For," he said, 
"I ain't no thief— leastways, not ever before"; 



how the thought of the empty stocking had turned 
the scale ; and of Maggie's rapture when the doll 
greeted her opening eyes ; and he wound up by 
begging Mr. Page to punish him in any way he 
chose, but not to take her one treasure from inno- 
cent Maggie. 

And Mr. Page's eyes filled with tears as he 
looked at his own little daughter, and thought of 
the other child in the bare tenement with her one 
treasure. 

To the man he gave work, that he might repay 
by honest labor the price of the doll; and to this 
day the crowning glory of Maggie's life is "the 
doll that Santa Claus brought." 







CHRISTA4AS BELLS 



The years come not back that have circled away 

With the past of the Eastern land, 
When he plucked the corn on the Sabbath day 

And healed the withered hand ; 
But the bells shall join in a joyous chime 

For the One who walked the sea. 
And ring again for the better time 

Of the Christ that is to be ! 
Then ring— for earth's best promise dwells 
In you, O joyous prophet bells! 
And the Mount of Transfiguration still 

Looks down on these Christian lands. 
And the glorified ones from the holy hill 

Are reaching their helping hands. 
These be the words our music tells 
Of solemn joy, O Christmas bells ! 



From a carhon print hy Hr.uin ,V i.'o.. i.l 1 




Froiii the p^iutinj; by C'j 



'1 HE IIOLV XI'jUT. 
THE SIMPLE SIILPHEKDS COME TO DO KE VJ-,K tNCE TO THE CHRIST-CHILD. 



267 



Z»^yf, 







TloreiMce.Z/fcTer 



4'^^U^ fc^ 'd^jP 



The Pacific Overland Express, from Omaha to 
the coast, stopped short with a slow, reluctant 
jerk. For over ten miles, since noon, it had tried 
to make its way through the snovvbergs that lay 
in huge drifts on the track, and now it gave up 
the fight, and rested at the eastern base of Great 
Bear Pass. 

Nell blew on the frosted window-pane until she 
had melted a peep-hole to look through. 

"Just mountains and mountains everywhere," 
she announced dolefully, and four other young 
Harrisons listened in doleful sympathy. Christ- 
mas in a snowed-up car would be something 
dreadful. 

"It 's five o'clock now," said Max, "and the 
conductor says we won't be out before to-mor- 
row, maybe, because they 've got to telegraph for 
a snow-plow to help us out." 

Curled together in a disconsolate heap on one 
seat, Benjy hugged Tomikins up close, and they 
sobbed in united woe. 

"No candy, or turkeys, or ballses, or dollies, 
or anysing," cried Tomikins. 

"And no Santa Clauses too," added Benjy, with 
a fresh howl. 

Even Jeanette, as big sister, felt the tears 
gather slowly in her eyes, in spite of her fifteen 
years, as she thought of the thirtj'-six miles that 
lay between them and Silver City. 

"Will Santa Claus find us 'way out here?" 
asked Nell. 

"Sure he '11 find us," promised Max, valiantly. 
"He '11 make a bee-line right over the mountains 
with those ponies of his — " 

"Reindeerses," prompted Benjy, sitting up, and 
taking an interest in life once more. 



"Don't you suppose that papa 's beginning to 
worry about us, Jeanie?" asked Max. 

Jeanette nodded her head. She knew if she 
tried to talk she would curl up in a heap, like the 
twins, and have a good, hard cry. 

At the end of the train, in the private car Poca- 
hontas, sat Mr. John P. Ridley. It did not please 
Mr. Ridley that the Pacific Overland Express 
should be held up by a snow-storm. He believed 
that a properly conducted railroad should be equal 
to any snow-storm. 

He kept his private porter busy running back 
and forth through the train, finding out what 
chances there were of getting through Great Bear 
Pass that night. It appeared that Mr. Ridley was 
especially anxious to get through that night for 
two reasons. The boxes and numerous small 
pieces of baggage that were stacked in one end 
of the car explained one of these reasons. The 
explanation of the other Mr. Ridley reserved to 
himself, to the telegraph operator back at Barker 
Junction, and to Warren, general manager of the 
Lakota mines in Silver City. 

He was sorry for Harrison. He was a hard 
worker and thoroughly competent, but they 
needed a young.er, quicker man as assayer at the 
Lakota mines. Harrison was, if anything, too 
painstaking. He experimented. Also, he was 
strictly conscientious. If it had not been for the 
coming deal in the Sunset mine, he might have 
kept him ; but a thing like that needed a different 
sort of man. Not that it was n't a "square deal." 
He believed himself that the Sunset was a good 
thing, and only half developed, but so far the 
output had not justified the price he had put on 
it. In case of questions asked by the buyers, he 



268 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



269 



did not want exactly a false report made \i\ the 
assayer. but he did want a man who conld see 
beyond the specimens in his hands, and who would 
look after the nitcrests of his cnipli.ncr cn(iut;h 
to prophesy favoralily on the future of lliu Sun- 
set. Harrison was not good at prophes\ing-. 

Therefore a telegram had gone forward from 
Barker Junction which rendered the [lositiim of 
assayer vacant, and }ilr. Ixidley was ver\' anxii.us 
to arri\'e ni Sdver City in time to meet the new 
assayer from Rutte and instruct him (in a few 
minor points of prophes) ing, before the liu\"ers 
for the Sunset should inter\-iew him. 

When six o'clock came, he had his pri\-ate din- 
ner prepared in his private kitchen Ijv his private 
chef, and he enjoyed it as well as his d\"spepsia 
would permit him to enjo_\- anything, wdiile in the 
cars ahead the general public rummaged in lunch- 
boxes and -baskets, and shared with one another 
remains of cold chicken and ham sanrlwiches in 
philosophical merriment over the situation. 

At half-past eight !Mr. Ridley found his privacy 
growing monotonous. On Christmas eve, in a 
snow-bound train strandeil in the heart of the 
Rockies, privacy is a bore, and so i\Ir. Ridle\" took 
a stroll through the train. 

He found relief for a while in the smoking- 
compartment of the first sleeper. There were 
several persons aboard the train who recognized 
the value of Mr. Ridley as a fellow-passenger, 
and were glad to make him welcome. 

He had noticed, in passing through the sleepers, 
a rather noisy crowd of youngsters who were 
singing, playing games, and otherwise having a 
very jolly time. 

It was after ele\'en when he left the smnking- 
compartment. On his way back through the cars, 
_ the conductor met him, and e.xplained apologeti- 
cally that the wires were down for several miles 
ahead in the pass, and it had been necessary to 
send back to Barker Junction in order to tele- 
graph ahead for a snow-plow. It inight be sev- 
eral hours before they could go on — possibly not 
before the next iT,orning. 

!Mr. Ridley was annoyed. As he went on 
through the narrow, curtained aisles of the sleep- 
ers, he felt vaguely resentful toward the whole 
system — railroad, snow-storm, passengers, and all 
— as a combined force of circumstances that could 
detain a man like John P. Ridley against his will. 
Suddenly he stopped short before Section 4 in the 
third sleeper. The two berths were made up, and 
they were close cjuarters, too. In the upper one 
slept Max and the twins, Benjy cuddled up cross- 
wise at the foot, and in the lower berth were Nell 
and Jeanette. 

But all that Mr. Ridley saw was a row of stock- 



ings pinned up on the long curtains, like mis- 
placeil tails on a ddiikey-sheet. He stared at them 
thr(iu,L;li his e\cglasses thuughtfully. Two small 
'ines just alike, well darned around the toes and 
heels, one long, duuble-kneed one for a boy who 
might possibly play marbles, and two fine-ribbed 
ones with small feet. 

-\fler a minute's inspection, Mr. Ridley walked 
b;ick to the end of the car and had a talk with 
the ]Mirter. Wdien he had finished he knew the 
persiinalit\- of each slocking, and the require- 
ments of its owner. .\nd then a very curious 
thing happened on the Pacific 0\'erlaiid Express, 
liack and forth lietween the third sleeper and the 
private car Mr. Ridlev's private pnrter marched, 
bis arms full of boxes and parcels; and wlien it 
came to ripening them before Section 4, Mr. Rid- 
lev himself tmik a hand. 

Wdien the five stockings were full, and bulged 
out at the tops, there were other parcels placed 
cautiouslv in the little hammocks that hung at the 
head and foot of the lower berth, and Mr. Ridley 
cau.ght a glimpse of Xell's brown pig-tails and 
leanette's \-elbiw curls hdng side by side on the 
jiillow. A\'hen he returned to the private car after 
all was d("ine, he was smiling comfortably to him- 
self, and had forgotten all about the wretched fa- 
cilities of railroads for dealing with snow-storms. 
.\t home there were two heads, \'ery similar to 
those in Section 4, waiting for papa to come. 
That was the first reason why Mr. Ridle}' wanted 
to get over Great Bear Pass that night. 

But just as the private porter gathered up the 
last pieces of string and paper from the aisle and 
started away after i\Ir. Ridley, ]\Iax's head ap- 
peared at the curtain opening of the upper berth. 
His hair was standing on end as only the hair of 
a pillow-tousled boy can act, and his eyes were 
round with sleepy, surprised amazement when he 
saw the bulging stockings. 

In half a ininute he had dropped from the 
berth, and a small white ghost in baggy night- 
clothes stole through the cars after i\Ir. Ridley, 
and never stopped until the vestibule door of the 
Pocahontas shut out the world frmn its privacy. 

At half-past se\'en on Christmas morning, the 
snow-plow came through (jreat Bear Pass. The 
blizzard had stopped, and it was clear and cold. 
A committee of five waited for admittance in the 
vestibule of the Pocahontas while Mr. Ridley 
bathed, shaved, and dressed. It was a joyous, 
excited committee. I\lax led as guide, with Nell 
hugging his shoulder, and Jeanette tried to hold 
the twins in check, until finally the private porter 
ushered them in past the tiny kitchen and pantry, 
all shining brass and tiles, past the little compart- 
ment dining-room, into the parlor section, with its 



270 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



dark-green hangings and deep, low willow chairs, 
its bookcases, and piano, and broad windows. 

Mr. Ridley rose from his desk to greet them. 
It was an awkward moment. Max and the girls 




CHRTSTM.-\S MORNING ON THE SI.F.EPER 

waited doubtfully for each other to speak, until 
Tomikins broke the ice. 

"Merry Cwismus!" he said. 

"The same to you, sir," responded Mr. Ridley, 
a twinkle gleaming in his eyes. "IMerry Christ- 
mas to all !" 

Then Jeanette began : "W'e came because we 
wanted to thank you — " 



"For being Santa Claus — " added Nell, eag- 
erly. 

"I saw you," exclaimed Max, forestalling any 
possible disclaimer. "I looked over the top of 
the curtains. My ! but you 
just ought to have seen the 
kiddies when they found 
those music-boxes!" 

Christmas breakfast is 
a lonesome aiTair all by 
one's self. There were five 
guests in Mr. Ridley's din- 
ing-room, and it was such 
a merry, delightful break- 
fast that no one noticed the 
time until the train began 
to move slowly forward, 

"We 're going !" shouted 
]\Iax, joyously. "'Rah! I 
really believe that papa 
stayed in the depot all 
night." 

"Are you going to Silver 
City?" asked Mr. Ridley. 

Of course they were. 
Why, did n't he know that 
before? Individually, and 
in chorus, they all told him 
how it had happened. 'Way 
back when the twins were 
only a year old, the dearest 
little mother in the world 
was called to rest, and since 
then they had lived in Chi- 
cago with grandmother 
Wilcox until papa could 
take them all. It had been 
a long time to wait,— al- 
most three years, — and they 
had been rather poor too. 

"Not raggedly poor," 
protested Nell. "Just 

shinv." 

But now everything was 
changed. Max's brown eyes 
sparkled with sturdy pride 
as he told how his father 
was assayer at the Lacota 
silver-mines, and how they 
were the finest mines in Colorado. Perhaps Mr. 
Ridley had heard of them. It appeared that Mr. 
Ridley had — slightly. It was a fine position, Max 
assured him, and steady, too. That was why papa 
had sent for them all to come to him, because he 
was sure it would last. And it would n't be hard 
at all, because Jeanie was going to be house- 
keeper, and they would all help her; and last of 



CHRISTMAS STORIl-.S I'OR OLDER Cli'ILDRKN 



271 



all, they just wnntcil to tell Mr. Ri(llc\- mic tliini;- L;Ta|ili-lilaiiks l;i\' (Hi it. ami he wrote a message 
— there was ii't a siiii^le father in the wlicile wurM ami ealleil the ]iiavatc |)urter. 

quite as splendid as the one who was waiting;' for "Send tliat as soon as wc reach (/resceiit," he 

them in the depot at Silver Citw said. 

r^Ir. l\idle\- listened, a twin on each knee, and It w.as the l.a^t '^ih from Santa (dans; ,and 

smiled. \\ hen hreakfast was o\-er. ieaiiette saiil Warren, general manat^cr of the Lacota mines 
they must go back, because the kiddies were cl.am- snnled w hen lie recei\-ed it. It read : 
oring for the music-boxes. So the\' \\a\ed their 

hands to him from the vestibule, and called, '^^■'^"" l'^^'"-'"- J' ''• J^""-"-^'- 

"?ilerry Christmas!" And after they bail gone, 
]\Ir. I\idle\' went and stood before one of the car ^ 



windows, looking out at the tl\-ing stretches of 
pine-dotted mountain side. 

Finally he turned to his desk. A jiad of tele- 



%\ 




/ 



? 



IN CHRISTMAS LAND 



I.\ the beams and gleams came the Christmas dreams 

To the little children there. 
And hand in hand, to the Christmas land — 

'Xeath the Christmas skies so fair, 
They \\ent away rm a magic sleigh 

That tinkled with silver bells. 
Over the \\hite of the snow, one night. 

Where the king of the Christmas dwells. 



They saw him marshal his soldiers small. 

In beautiful, bright brigades; 
At the tap o' the drum they saw them come 

With guns and glittering Idades. 
The little soldiers were made of tin. 

With painted coats of red. 
And they drilled away, with their banners gay, 

By a cute little captain led. 



A CHRISTMAS CURE 

BY EMILIE rOULSSON 



Santa Claus sat by the 

fire in his own home, look- 
ing anxious and troubled. 

His droll little mouth was 

not drawn up like a bow ; 

his eyes had not twinkled 

for ten minutes ; and his 

dimples, even, would n't 

have looked merry if they 

could have helped it. 

Santa Claus sat there 

thinking— thinking. It was 

just before Christmas. What 

was the matter with the 

good jolly old Saint? Had 

his sleigh broken down? 

Had any of his reindeer 

run away ? Had he lost his 

own, particular, pet, pri- 
vate map?— for a body 

must have a wonderful map 
to guide him all about 

among the chimneys of the 
whole world. 

But no, — it was none of 
these things. Could n't he 
find toys enough to go 
round ? Bless your dear 
little anxious heart, don't 
you be afraid of that ! He 
had thousands of bushels 
of toys left after planning 
all the stockings of the children 
were down in his books ! Oh ! no 
had toys enough. That was n't the trouble ! 

I should n't have said, "after planning all the 
stockings." One stocking there was for which 
Santa Claus had not yet planned a single thing ; 
and that was -why poor dear old Santa Claus was 
in such a state of worry and anxiety. This stock- 
ing belonged to a little boy whose good parents 
had long before Christmas sent in his name to 
Santa Claus. But although there had been plenty 
of time, and Santa Claus had put plenty of 
thought upon the matter, he had not yet been able 
to decide upon even one thing for that little boy's 
stocking. So* there he sat by the fire, thinking 
and thinking and thinking. 

Perhaps it seems strange to you that Santa 
should be puzzled about such a thing as that, 
when filling stockings is his regular profession, 
— (a highly honorable one, too, and long may 




SANTA CLAUS SAT THERE THINKING — THINKING. 



whose names 
Santa Claus 



Santa live to grace it!),— but the little boy to 
whom that stocking belonged was a very strange 
and unusual child. H anything was given to him 
he would either break it to pieces very soon or 
do some naughty mischief with it. Worst of all, 
he would even hurt his nurse or his little bro- 
thers and sisters with his beautiful toys, if he hap- 
pened to feel like doing so. 

Yet kind old Santa could not bear to leave even 
this stocking empty. So he had been puzzling 
his brains to find something with which the little 
boy could not hurt people, and something he 
could not break ; and although he had been think- 
ing over all his lists of toys and presents, nothing 
had he found yet ! 

"Chirp ! Chirp !" sounded a sharp little voice. 
"Chirp ! chirp ! You may as well give it up. He 
does n't deserve anything, the little scamp !" 

"Oh ! Is that you, Cricket?" said Santa. "Come 
up here," and as he held out his fat forefinger a 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



273 



tiny and very black cricket reached it witli a sud- 
den jump. 

"You may as well give it up!" creaked the 
cricket in a shrill tone. "Vou can't think of an\'- 
thing / know." 

"It begins to seem as if I could n't," saiil Santa 
Claus dolefully. "But I am so sorr\- for the bov ! 
I can't bear to think of that stocking, and of the 
poor little rascal's disappointment on Christmas 
morning. What do you think of those nice little 
donkeys, saddled and bridled, and with cunning 
little baskets slung at each siile? Little— ( ahem ! 
you know wdio I mean, and it is best not to men- 
tion names) — he would be delighted with one of 
them, and they are really quite strong.'' 

"Chirp !" snapped out the cricket, scarcely wait- 
ing for Santa to finish : "quite strong, indeed ! 
But you know perfectly- well that it does n't mat- 
ter much how strong a thing is, any more than 
how nice it is. That boy breaks everything ! You 
know yourself he had ten presents on his birth- 
day, about a month ago, and where are they now? 
All broken but the umbrella his mamma gave him, 
and that has been put away." 

"I know, I know," said Santa. "Xo ! I can't 
give him the donkey ! — nor any other of those fine 
little animals that we have this year. Xor a drum ; 
nor a cart; nor a wdTeelbarrow ; nor a ship; nor a 
fire-engine ; nor a top ; nor a music-box ; nor a 
clock! Oh! hoiv I did want to give him one of 
those fascinating clocks !" and Santa Claus looked 
very wistfully at the cricket, and then sighed 
heavily. "But I know I could n't. I can't bear 
to see the nice presents and interesting toys 
broken to pieces. But I 've thought of one thing, 
Cricket; and I don't believe he conld break it. 
And yet he would like it, I am sure." Santa 
looked a little more cheerfully at the cricket, and 
continued: "I thought of a nice little hammer and 
box of nails, and some blocks of wood for him to 
hammer the nails into I That 's the present for 
him. Hey, now! what do you think of that.''" 

"What do I think?" said the cricket. "I think, 
Santa Claus, that you have forgotten how the lit- 
tle boy beat his brother with his drumsticks ; how 
he snipped his sister's fingers with the scissors; 
how he threw his harmonica at the nurse; how 
he-" 

"Dear, dear, dear!" groaned Santa, "so he did; 
so he did !" 

"And if you keep giving him things when he 
uses them so wrongly," continued the cricket, 



"how wil) he ever learn better? To be sure, his 
mamma and papa and all his kind friends are try- 
ing to teach him, but it is necessary that every- 
body should help to train such a boy as — " 

"I know," interrupted Santa, "I know. You 're 
a wise little counselor, and not as hard-hearted as 
you seem. And if you think it will cure the poor 
little fellow, I suppose we must give him the 
sawdust this year." 

"Yes," said the cricket solemnly, "sawdust it 
must be." 

Christmas morning came. The little boy, whose 
name Santa Claus did not wash mentioned, saw 
all the other children pull out one treasure after 
another from their long, well-stuffed stockings, 
while in his own, wdiich he had Iiung up with so 
nnich hope the night before, there was nothing 
but sawdust ! 

If I should use all the sad words in the English 
language I never could tell you how sad that lit- 
tle boy was as he poured the sawdust out of his 
stocking, and found that Santa Claus had really 
sent him nothing else. 

Poor little chap ! 

It was almost a year later, just before Christ- 
mas, when Santa Claus again sat by his fire- 
thinking. 

But this time he was in no trouble ; no, indeed, 
not he! He w-as rounder and rosier and jollier 
than ever before; and how he was smiling and 
chuckling to himself! His eyes twinkled so, and 
were so very bright, that you could almost have 
lit a candle at them. He and the cricket had been 
planning all sorts of ecstatic surprises for the 
stocking of the boy to wdiom they had given saw- 
dust the year before; for, if _\-ou can believe it, 
the little boy had been trying all the year to be 
careful and gentle, and he was really quite 
changed ! 

"Sawdust is a grand thing," chirped the cricket, 
leaping about in delight. 

"Yes, but I am glad we do not need to use it 
this year," replied Santa. "Let me see the list 
again. Don't you suppose we could cram in one 
or two more things? Have you put down the — " 

This is the end of the story; or, at least, all that 
could be told before Christmas; for if I should 
write more and a certain little boy should read it, 
he would know just wdiat would be in his stock- 
ing — and that would never do in the world! 




BRINGING IN THE YULE LOG. 



SIR CLEGES AND HIS GIFT 

(Ah <>,'</ /i7i^-//s/i Christinas Legend) 

BY ARTHUR GUITERMAN 



Not in the time of King Arthur, but in that still 
earlier day when King Arthur's father, the great 
Uther Pcndragon, ruled Britain with a strong 
hand, there dwelt near the city of Cardiff, so teH 
the old chronicles, "a worthy, strong, tall, fair, 
courteous, gentle knight, named Sir Cleges, with 
his good wife. Dame Clarys." In his youth Sir 
Cleges had been a great champion. Right well 
had he served his king in the wars against the 
heathen invaders,-the Saxons, Danes, and North- 
men,— and worthily had he won much wealth in 
lands and treasure. But he cared little for wealth, 
loving to give, rather than to hold in store. Both 
he and his dame were wont to bestow bountiful 
alms on the poor and rich guerdon to wandering 
minstrels. Each Christmas-tide they held a grea* 
feast at which they gave presents of food and 
robes to all who might come. So one Christmas 
morning Sir Cleges awoke to tind that he had no 
more the means of giving, for all his treasure was 
spent, all his lands were gone, and little enouHi 
remamed for himself and his wife. " 

So he went forth heavily from his door and 
his sorrow was heightened as he heard on all 
sides the sounds of rejoicing and the music of 
•trompes, pipes, clarions, harps, lutes, and git- 
terns," celebrating the dawning of Christmas Day. 

»74 



Then out came the good Dame Clarys and com- 
forted him, saying, "Surely, we have each other; 
and will not the Lord provide the little that we 
may need in our old age ?" So they went in to- 
gether and ate joyfully such food as they had. 

And then Sir Cleges again went forth into his 
garden, and kneeling beneath a great cherry-tree, 
thanked God for all His mercies and prayed for 
the welfare of those he loved. As he arose he 
.grasped the bough above him to help him to his 
feet ; and as he looked upon that bough, behold ! 
it was laden down with green leaves and rich red 
cherries! — although it was the Yule-tide. 

Then greatly he marveled and rejoiced, and 
cried out to Dame Clarys. "But now," said she, 
"take this gift of Heaven to the king in his 
castle of Cardiff, and sure am I it will much 
avail us." 

"Aye, good wife," replied Sir Cleges, "to Cardiff 
will I go and to the court where I have not been 
these many years ; for fain would I again see my 
lord the king, at whose right hand I fought in my 
youth, — though small chance is there that he will 
know his strong knight of the old wars in this 
mean garb and this long gray beard." 

So Sir Cleges gathered the cherries into a huge 
pannier, covering them with the leaves, and set 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHII,DREN 



275 



out for Cardiff, poorly clad as he was and staff in 
hand, for he had neither war-lmrse nor palfrey. 

Xow, when he came to the kint^'s t;ate he found 
a proud porter. And the porter, seenig that he 
was ill clad, called to him gruffly: "Thi.u cluud, 
withdraw thee sniartl\', \\ith(iut tlelav, or else shall 
I break -thy head! If thiju seekest again to come 
in, it shall rue thee, — for then siiall I beat thee!" 

Sir Cleges answered mildly, though his heart 
was wroth: "Good sir, I pray thee, let me go in: 
for I liaye brought a present for the king. Behold 
it!" and he uncoyered the pannier. 

Xow the porter, seeing the cherries, knew full 
well that he that brought so marvebais a present 
would sureh- receive rich gifts in return : so he 
said: "Churl, thou comest mat into this place un- 
less thou grantest me a third part oi that which 
the king shall giye thee, — whatever it ma_\' be." 

As he needs must. Sir Cleges gave his word 
thereto and passed through the gate and on. 

At the hall door he met the king's usher, hold- 
ing his staff of office raised as if to smite, and 
saving, "Go back, thou churl, without tarrying ! 
or I shall beat thee, head and body !" 

Again answered Sir Cleges, humbly: "Good sir, 
I have brought the king a Christmas gift that 
e\'en this morning grew in my garden." 

The usher lifted the lca\-es from the pannier, 
beheld the untimelv fruit, and mar\'elcd. "I tell 
thee truly, churl," said he, with cunning, "e'en 
yet thou goest not in unless thou grantest me a 
third part of thy winning when thou com'st back." 

Sir Cleges saw no other way, and so agreed. 

And, with heavy heart, he went on into the hall. 

And there was feasting, harping, and singing. 
And the king sat on a raised seat at the great 
table, amid his knights and lords. Then came the 
steward bustling from among the richly clad 
nobles and went boldly to Sir Cleges. "Churl," 
said he, "who made thee so hardy as to come into 
this place? Thou art too bold. Withdraw thee 
with thine old clothes !" 

Simply and sadly answered him Sir Cleges: "I 
bear a gift for the king," and showed it. 

Then marveled the steward : "This saw I never 
at this time of year since I was man. And thou 
shalt come no nearer the king unless thou grantest 
mea third part of the gift that he shall give thee." 

"Alas I" thought poor Sir Cleges, "among these 
thieves I shall have naught for my labor unless it 
be a dinner!" But, sighing sore, he answered: 
"So let it be. Whatever the king award, thou 
shalt have the third part, be it less or more." 

Then the steward made way for him among the 
throng and hastened out beyond the curtains to 
await his returning. And Sir Cleges went up to 
the dais, where, kneeling before the king, he 



uncoyered his pannier, saying, "My lord, Heaven 
hath willed that earth should bear this fruit this 
\-ery day, and sendelli it to thee with honor." 

And the king said: "Meaven be thanked; and 
likewise do I thank the bringer. In truth, this is 
a f:ur sight and a great wonder." 

Then he commanded that place be made for 
Sir Cleges at his board, and bade him feast and 
be merry, for tliat his gift should iiiuch avail liim. 
And he causeil the cherries to be served bounti- 
full_\- through the hall ; and never before had any 
that were there tasted of such luscious fruit. And 
when the feast was done he said to his squire: 
"Bring now before me the poor man that brought 
the cherries !" 

So Sir Cleges came again before the king and 
fell on his knees, saving, "iMy lord, what is your 
will .•' I am A'our man, free-born." 

Said the king: "I thank thee heartily for thy 
gift. Thou hast honored all my feast. So shall 
I grant thee whatever tlirm wilt ha\'e." 

Xow said Sir Cleges joyfully, yet, withal, soine- 
what grimly : "Gramercy, my liege king ! right 
comforting is this to me. I tell thee truly, to 
have land or other riches is too much for such as 
I am. So, if I may choose for myself, I pray thee 
grant me twelve strokes of my staff to be dealt 
where they are due; for fitting it is that men 
siiould pay their debts." 

At that was King Uther troubled, for he loved 
not unseemly brawling. "X'ow do I repent my 
granting," said he. "I would advise thee, thou 
hadst better have gold or fee ; more need of them 
thou hast than of sturd}' blows, given or taken." 

";\Iv liege," answered Sir Cleges, "it was 
thine own .grant, therefore am I full glad thereof, 
'"^'et do I promise, and pledge my head thereto, 
that these twelve strokes, thy gift, shall be be- 
stowed only wliere they are rightly due; so I pray 
thee to send after me two trusty knights who, un- 
seen, shall note all that is said and done, and bear 
witness wdiether or not I keep my word." 

Ill content was Uther, yet might he not gainsay 
that which he had granterl ; therefore he gave Sir 
Cleges leave to go, and bade two knights follow 
him secretly as he had desired. 

While he was gone the king still sat with his 
lords in hall, and the minstrels sang to them bal- 
lads of brave deeds in old wars ; and the chief of 
them all sang of a gallant adventure of Sir Cleges. 
Whereat said the king: "Harper, tell me of this 
knight, Sir Cleges, since thou hast traveled 
widely; knowest thou him?" 

"Yea, in sooth,'' answered the harper; "some 
time since I knew him. Ele was a true knight of 
yours, and a comely, and fair of stature. We 
minstrelsmisshimgreatly,for free was his bounty." 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



276 

Then said ihe king: "I trow Sir Cleges is dead. 
Would he were alive ! I would sooner have him 
than five others. I loved him much, for gentle he 
was, and stark in fight." 

But now arose a great noise and bawling with- 



speak for merriment: "My liege, we two, as was 
thy pleasure, followed this good man whom these 
three varlets misname 'churl' Hardly had he left 
thy hall 
steward. 



when up 
seeing us 




' I PRAY THEE, LET ME GO IN ; FOR I HAVE BROUGHT A PRESENT FOR THE KING 



out the hall ; and presently in rushed the steward, 
the usher, and the porter, crying for the king's 
justice upon a false churl; and amongst them was 
not one head unbeaten. And behind them fol- 
lowed the two knights, holding their sides for 
laughter ; and behind all strode Sir Cleges, grim 
and tall, tightly gripping his stout oak staff. 

The king commanded silence and bade one of 
the two knights tell freely what he had seen and 
heard. Then said the knight, when that he could 



to him came this thy worthy 
not, for we were well hidden 
behind a curtain. 'Churl,' 
said he, 'now give me, ac- 
cording to thy promise, a 
third part of what the king 
hath given thee.' 'Aye,' an- 
swered the stout man, 'have 
here some strokes !' and four 
masterly strokes he laid on 
with good will, and left the 
steward blubbering. Then, 
as he went on his way, thy 
usher and thy porter in turn 
likewise demanded of him a 
third part of thy gift, and 
likewise did he deal with 
them right worthily. So do 
we two bear true witness, on 
the honor of our knighthood, 
that he hath paid these 
strokes but where they were 
due according to his word. 
And truly do we discern that 
no churl is he, but a stout 
man-at-arms, for from his 
stark bearing may it be seen 
that his hand knoweth sword- 
hilt better than plow-handle." 
Now loudly laughed the 
lords, both old and young, 
and louder laughed King 
Uther; and steward, usher, 
and porter were fain to slink 
away to nurse their broken 
heads in shame. 

Then said the king: "What 
is thy name ? tell me, good 
man." 

And he answered : "My 
name is Sir Cleges. I was 
thy own knight till poverty 
came upon me." 

Now the king came down 
:lasped both Sir Cleges's hands 
in his own. "Old friend," said he, while all the 
assembled guests ceased talking, "oft hast thou 
done me good service with sword and lance on 
battle-field years agone when we both were 
younger and stronger than we are to-day, when 
each would have gladly given his life to save the 
other. But of all the timely and valuable ser- 
vices thou didst render me in the past, 1 have 
never received better service than thou hast done 



from the dais and 



CHRISTMAS STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



277 




me this day, when thy stout staff hath deah jus- 
tice on the grasping knaves who would stand be- 
twixt true people and tlieir king." 

So he clothed Sir Cleges in fine robes, befit- 



ting his rank, and bestowed upon him much 
riches, together with the castle of Cardiff, where 
the good kniglit and his dame dwelt long in peace, 
bounty, and honor, beloved by all the people. 



THE BEST TREE 



Carl lay on the floor by the firelight bright 

Tliinking about the trees. 
"I lijve them all," he said to himself. 

As he named them over with ease; 
"The chestnut, ash, and oak so high, 

The pine, with its needle leaves, 
The spruce and cedar and hemlock green, 

And the maple with its keys. 

"The dainty willow, with pussies gray. 

The birch with bark so white. 
The apple-tree with its blossoms sweet, 

And the fruit so red and bright. 
But the one I love the best of all 

Blooms and bears fruit together; 
It 's sure to be filled at this time of the year. 

Whatever may be the weather." 




'"S~^ 



^ C-S^?^i?^3®^^^S®B=^^i 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND 
TEACHERS 

STORIES OE THE SAINTS 



A SAINT is a good man or woman whose life lias 
been spent in cliaritable worl:, in devotion to 
God, and in true repentance for anv sin. In 
olden times, when nearly all Christians were 
ruled by the Church of Rome, many noble men 
and women, wliose lives had been full of good- 
ness, were, after death, made saints by the 
Church, or "canonized," and a day of the year 
fixed for paving reverence to their memory. In 
time many beautiful legends, partly true but 
largely imaginary, came to be told about these 
saints, and these legends are well worth reading, 
even if we only regard them as beautiful stories. 
Here we read of the lives of some of the best 
known of these saints. 



THE LITTLE LOOR MAN OF ASSISI 

There liverl in tlie town of Assisi, in Italy, in the 
thirteenth century, the son of a very wealthy 
merchant, and his name was Francis. He was a 



a disciple of Christ. For he did not rave, he did 
not shout, he did not make himself a fool in peo- 
ple's eyes. No, he was the same cheerful, bright- 
eyed, happy-minded man, but with this difference 
— that all his cheerfulness came from love of 
God. 

And this was the secret of St. Francis. He 
adored poverty. If, said he, Christ became a poor 
carpenter's son for us, surely we ought to make 
ourselves poor for him. And he found a deep 
ioy in poverty. He spoke of poverty as a lady, 
and said he had married this beautiful lady of 
poverty. He wore a rough brown dress, eating 
simple food, and spent all his time in teaching 
people not to desire riches and greatness, but to 
desire poverty— that is to say, to love God so 
much that everything rich and grand and mag- 
nificent appears silly and trivial and unworthy. 

St. Francis loved everything that God had 
made, and all the animals and birds were his 
special friends. They were never frightened of 
him, and when he walked in the woods the birds 



hanflsome, bright-eyed, merry-hearted boy, and as would come and perch on his shoulder and sing 
he grew up to manhood he lived only for pleasure their .good morning to him. 



and excitement. He became famous for the wild 
way in which he spent his money, and even set 
himself to outdo the sons of noblemen in gran- 
deur and vanit\'. 

But in the midst of his wild and foolish life 
there came to him a voice from heaven, and he 
saw all at once how foolish and vain he had been, 
for it is a madness to take delight in rich raiment 
and to think only of bodily pleasure, when every 
da}- we live only carries us nearer to the mystery 
of death. 

Francis gave up his mad ways and set himself 
to serve Christ. He tore off all his rich clothes, 
and lived like a beggar. His father was furious. 
His old companions pelted him with mud. Nearly 
everybody thought that he was mad. But some 
people began to perceive that Francis was indeed 



And sometimes he would stand still and let 
them all come round him, and would preach a 
little sermon to them, telling them how they 
ought to praise God for his goodness. 

"Little sisters" he always called them, and it is 
said they would listen quietly while he spoke, and 
then, when he gave them his blessing, they would 
rise up to heaven singing their hymn of praise, 
just as if they had really understood their little 
service. 

Once when St. Francis and some of his friends 
were returning home, they heard a great number 
of birds singing among the bushes. And when 
St. Francis saw them he said to his companions: 

"Our sisters, the birds, are praising their 
Maker. Let us go among them and sing our ser- 
vice too." 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



279 



The birds were not in the least disturbed, luit 
continued their chirping and twittering-, so that 
the men could not hear their own voices. Then 
St. Francis turned to the birds and said: 

"Little sisters, cease your song until wc have 
given God our praise." And they at once were 
quiet, and did not begin to sing again uiud the 
service was over. 

And it was not only the birds that loved him, 
hut every kind of creature came to him for com- 
fort and shelter. 

Now we will repeat a story which was told 
about St. Francis after he was dead, when people 
tried to remember all the wonderful things that 
he had done, and perhaps made them a little more 
wonderful, out of love for the saint. 

Once, when the saint was living in the cit\' of 
Agolio, a terribly fierce wolf began to prowl 
about the town. He carried off evervthing eata- 
ble he could find, and grew so bold that he even 
seized the children and made oft' to his nmun- 
tain den with them. The whole town was terri- 
fied, and people scarcely dared go out of doors 
for fear of meeting the terrible wolf. And 
though the men hunted him, he alwavs escaped 
and came prowling down at nightfall again. 

When St. Francis heard this he said : 

"I will go out and meet this wolf, and ask him 
what he means." 

"He will kill you," cried all the people, and 
they tried to persuade him not to go. 

But St. Francis set out, taking some of his 
religious friends with him. They went bravely 
along for a short way, and then tlie friends 
turned back afraid and ran home, leaving St. 
Francis alone. And presently he heard a deep 
growling and the sound of a terrible rush, and 
the great wolf, with blazing eyes and open mouth, 
came bounding toward him. But as he came 
nearer, St. Francis went forward to meet him, 
and making the sign of the cross, he said: "Come 
hither, brother wolf. I command thee in the 
name of Christ that thou do no more harm to me 
nor to any one." 

i\.nd then a wonderful thing happened ; for, as 
soon as the wolf heard the saint's voice, he 
stopped, and then came gently forward, and lay 
like a lamb at St. Francis's feet. Then St. Fran- 
cis talked quietly to him. and told him he de- 
served to be punished for all the evil he had 
done, but if he would promise to kill and plunder 
no more, the people of Agolio would promise on 
their side to give him food every day. And the 
wolf rubbed his head against St. Francis's habit 
and gently laid his paw in the saint's hand. -\nd 
always after that the good people of Agolio used 
to put out food for the wolf, and he grew so 



gooil and tame that he went quietly frorn door to 
diior, and never did h;irm to an_\- one again. 

St. Francis and his religious brethren lived in 
.1 convent that w.as bmlt close to a wood, and this 
wuchI was the place St. Francis loved best. For 
he could be quite alone there, to pray and medi- 
tate, with no one to disturb his thoughts. And 
nitcn, when all the other brotliers were asleep, 
he would steal quietly out and kneel for hours 
under the silent trees, alone with t]od. 

Now we are told that there was a little boy at 
the con\-ent who loved St. Francis verv much, 
and wanted to know all that he did, that he might 
learn to grow like him. Especially he wondered 
wh\- St. Francis went alone into the dark wood, 
hut he was too sleepy to keep awake to see. It 
was a very poor convent, and all the brothers 
slept on mats on the floor, for they had not sepa- 
rate cells. At last one night the bov crept close 
to the side of St. Francis, and spread his mat 
quite clrise to his master's, and in case he should 
not wake he tied his little cord to the cord which 
St. Francis wore rountl his waist. Then he lay 
down happily and went to sleep. 

By and by when every one was asleep, St. 
Francis got up as usual to prav. But he noticed 
the cord and gently untied it, so that the boy 
slept on undisturbed. Presently, however, the 
child awoke, and finding his cord loose and his 
master gone, he got up and followed him into the 
wood, treadmg very softly with his bare feet that 
he might disturb nobodv. 

It was very dark, and he had to feel his way 
among the trees ; but si:)on a bright li,ght shone 
riut, and as he stole nearer he saw a wonderful 
sight. His master was kneeling there, and with 
him was the blessed \'irgin, holding our dear 
Lord in her arms, and many saints were there as 
well. And over all was a great cloud of the holy 
angels. The vision and the glorious brightness 
almost blinded the child, and he fell down as if 
he were dead. 

Now when St. Francis was returning home he 
stumbled over the little body lying there, and 
guessing what had happened he stooped down 
and tenderly lifted hiiu up, and carried him in his 
arms, as the good shepherd carries his lambs. 
Then the child felt his master's arms round him, 
and was comforted, and told him of the vision 
and how it had frightened him. In return St. 
Francis bade him tell no one what he had seen as 
long as his master was alive. .So the old story 
tells us that the child grew up to be a good man 
and was one of the holiest of the friends of St. 
Francis, because he always tried to grow like his 
master. Only after St. Francis died did he tell 
the story of the glorious vision which he had 



280 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



seen that night in the dark wood, at the time when 
no one knew what a great saint his master was. 

For six hundred years men have loved St. 
Francis, whom we call the Little Poor ;\Ian of 
Assisi. He has taught us all, the wicked and the 
foolish, that we can change and can become good, 
that we can grow almost like the beautiful and 
sinless Christ. 

St. Francis is dear to us for many reasons; but 
perhaps we are grateful to him, more than for 



"What sort of a woman are you?" he asked 
roughly. "And what is your name?" 

"I am a Roman lady," she replied proudly. 
"Among men I am known as Cecilia, but my 
name is Christian." 

Then she was condemned, and they carried her 
away to her own house, and placed her in a bath 
of boiling water. She was then bound, and a 
sword descended upon her neck, but did not sever 
it. For three davs she lived, giving all her money 



any other of his virtues, for just this simple to the poor, and singing praises to God ; then she 

teaching— that we should never be unkind to bird died, and was called ever after St. Cecilia, 
or beast, but should treat them all as brothers 

and sisters, and spread the love of God among ST. GILES, THE MAN WITH A 

all living things. TENDER HEART 



ST. CECILIA, THE SWEET SINGER 
OF ROME 

There was a strange scene one day in the city of 
Rome when it was a crime punishable by death 
to be a Christian. A handsome young Roman 
soldier, by name \'alerian, had just brought home 
his bride, a verv beautiful and proudly bred Ro- 
man girl, named Cecilia. The festivities were 
over. The guests had all gone. \'alerian was 
alone with his bride. Then Cecilia said to him: 

"I am your wife, but I do not belong to you. 
I belong to Christ. All mv life up I have given 
mvself to Christ, and I have a guardian angel 
who will guard me from evil." 

Valerian was much surprised, for he had no 
idea that the noble parents of Cecilia were among 
the despised Christians. 

"Show me this angel," he said to his wife; 
"then I shall know if what you say is true." 

She told him that he could not see the angel 
until he had learned to love Christ, and bade him 
go along the Appian Way, outside the city walls 
of Rome, and ask the poor people who lived 
there to direct him to L^rban the Good. This 
Valerian did, and he found LTban living under- 
ground in the Catacombs. L^rban told him the 
story of the fatherhood of God and the sonship 
of Jesus Christ, and A'alerian believed and was 
baptized. So happy was he in his new faith that 
he persuaded his brother also, and these two, 
with the beautiful Cecilia, spent their lives in 
doing good to the poor. The home was very 
happy, for Cecilia had a lovely voice, and she 
sang songs to God which thrilled the hearts of 
the two brothers, and they knew that after death 
they would all meet in a happier world. 

Soon it became known that A'alerian and his 
brother were Christians, and they were put to 
death. But Cecilia became bolder in preaching, 
and was brought before the governor. 



It was in the beautiful land of Greece that St. 
Giles was born. His parents were of royal blood, 
and were Christians; so the boy was brought up 
most carefully, and taught all that a prince should 
know. 

He was a dreamy, quiet boy, and what he loved 
best was to wander out in the green woods by 
himself, with no companions but the animals and 
birds and llowers. He would lie for hours watch- 
ing the birds busily build their nests, or the rab- 
bits as thev timidlv peeped at him out of their 
holes. And soon all the woodland creatures be- 
gan to look upon him as their friend, and even 
the wildest would come gradually nearer and 
nearer, almost within reach of his hand ; and 
they seemed to listen when he talked to them, as 
if they could understand what he said. One thing 
they certainly did understand, and that was that 
he loved them and would do them no harm. 

St. Giles could not bear to see anvthing suffer, 
and his pity was great for all those in pain; and 
often he would mend a bird's broken wing, or 
bind up a little furry foot that had been torn in 
a trap ; and the birds and beasts always lay quiet 
under his hand, and seemed to know that he 
would cure tlvem, even though the touch might 
hurt. 

It happened that one day, when St. Giles was 
kneeling in church, he saw a poor beggar lying 
there on the cold, stone floor. He had scarcely 
any clothes to keep him warm, and his face had 
a hungry, suffering look, which filled the heart of 
the saint with pity. He saw that the poor man 
was ill and trembling with cold, so without a 
moment's thought, he took off his own warm 
cloak and tenderly wrapped it round the beggar. 

The warmth of the cloak seemed to bring life 
back to the poor chilled body, and when St. Giles 
had given him food and wine, he was able to lift 
himself up, and to bless the kind youth who had 
helped hirn. 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



281 



And when the people saw what had happened 
they thought St. Giles had worked a miracle, and 
cured the man h\- his wonderful touch ; for the\- 
did not realize that all kind deeds work miracles 
every day. 

It did not please St. Giles that people should 
think he possessed this miraculous' gift of heal- 
ing, and he had no wish to he called a saint. He 
only longed to lead his own quiet life and to help 
all God's creatures who needed his care. But the 
people would not leave him alone, and thev 
brought to him those who were sick and lame and 
blind, and expected that he would heal them. 

It is true that many needed only a little human 
aid, and the food and help which St. Giles gave 
them would soon make them well again ; but there 
were some he could not help, and it wrung his 
heart to see their pleai.ling eves, and to watch 
them bring out their little store of hard-earned 
money, eager to bu}- the aid which he so willinglv 
would have given had he been able. 

So at last St. Giles determined to lea\'e his 
native city, for he had been all alone since his 
father and mother had died. He wished to escape 
from the anxious crowds that refused to leave 
him in peace : but first he sold all that he had and 
gave it to the poor of the city, an act which made 
them surer than ever that he was one of God's 
saints. Then he sailed away across the sea to a 
far-off country. 

There St. Giles found a lonely cave in which 
an old hermit lived. "Here at last I shall find 
peace and quietness," said he to himself, "and 
men will soon forget me." 

But even here ere long his friends found him, 
for his fame had spread across the seas. So once 
more he set out and went farther and farther 
away, by paths that few had ever trod before, 
until in the depths of a green forest he found 
another shelter, a cave among gray rocks over- 
grown with lichens, and hidden by the sheltering 
boughs of the surrounding trees. St. Giles had 
always loved the woods and this was just the 
home he had longed for. A clear stream flowed 
not far off, and his only companions would be the 
birds and beasts and flowers. 

Early in the morning the birds would wake him 
with their song, and the wild creatures would 
come stealing out of the wood to share his meal. 
And his silent friends, the flowers, would cheer 
and help him by their beauty, and remind him of 
God's garden whose gate would one day open for 
him, where he would wander in the green pas- 
tures beside the still waters of life for evermore. 

But of all his companions the one St. (jiles 
loved best was a gentle white doe, who came to 
him as soon as he settled in the cave. She seemed 



to ha\-e no fear of him from the first, and stayed 
with him longer and longer each time, until at 
last she took up her abode with him, and would 
never lea\-e him, hdng close to him when he slept, 
and walking b_\- his bide wherever he went. 

Idiis peaceful life went on for a long time and 
It seemed as if nothing could disturb its quiet 
happiness. But it happened that one day as St. 
Idles was praving in the cave, and his compan- 
iiin, the white doe, was nibbling her nmrning meal 
of fresh grass b_v the banks of the stream, a curi- 
ous noise was heard afar off. It came nearer and 
nearer, and then shouts of men's voices could be 
heard, the sound of horses galloping and the note 
iif the hunter's horn. Then came the deep ba_\'ing 
of dogs, and befrire the startled doe could hide, 
the whole hunt was upon her. With a wild hal- 
loo the\' chased her across the greensward and 
through the trees, and just as she disappeared 
into the cave one of the huntsmen drew his bow 
and sent an arrow fl\ing after her. Then they 
all dismounted and went to see what had become 
of the hunted doe, and soon found the opening 
into the cave. But what was their surprise, when 
they burst in. to find an old man kneeling there. 
He was sheltering the terrified doe vdio had fled 
to him for refuge, and an arrow had pierced the 
kind hand that had been raiseil to shield her. 

The huntsmen were ashamed of their cruel 
sport when they saw the wounded hand of the 
old man and the trembling form of the white doe 
as it crouched behind him, and thev listened with 
reverence to the hermit's words as he spCike 
to them of man's duty toward God's dumb crea- 
tures. 

The King of France, who was one of the hunt- 
ing-part}', came often after this to see St. Giles, 
and at last oft'ered to build him a monastery and 
give him all that he could want; but the old man 
begged to be left alone in his woodland cave, to 
serve God in peace and quietness. So there he 
lived quietly and happily for manv ^■ears, until 
God took him and he left his cave for the fairer 
fields of paradise. 

People loved the thought of this peaceful old 
saint who dwelt in the woods and was the pro- 
tector of all sorrowTul and suffering creatures, 
and so they often called their churches after St. 
Giles, especially those churches which were built 
in the fields or near green woods. 

The surroundings of manv of these churches 
are to-day changed. For instance, there are no 
fields now round his great cathedral church in 
Edinburgh; but the poor and sick and sorrowful 
crowd very near to its shelter, and the memory 
of the pitiful heart of the gentle saint still hovers 
like a blessing round the gray old walls. 



282 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



ST. NICHOLAS, THE REAL 
SANTA CLAUS 

Of all the saints that httle children love is there 
any to compare with Santa Clans? The very 
sound of his name has magic in it, and calls up 
visions of well-filled stockings, with the presents 
we particularly want peeping over the top, or 
hanging out at the side, too big to go into the 
largest sock. Besides, there is something so mys- 
terious and exciting about Santa Claus, for no 
one seems ever to have seen him. But we picture 
him to ourselves as an old man with a w'hite 
beard, whose favorite way of coming into our 
rooms is down the chimney, bringing gifts for 
the good children. 

Yet this Santa Claus, in whose name the pres- 
ents come to us at Christmas time, is a very real 
saint, and we can learn a great deal about him, 
only we must remember that his true name is St. 
Nicholas. Perhaps the little children, who used 
to talk of him long ago, found St. Nicholas too 
difficult to say, and so called him their dear Santa 
Claus. But we learn, as we grow older, that 
Nicholas is his true name, and that he is a real 
person who lived long years ago, far away in 
the East. 

The father and mother of Nicholas were noble 
and very rich, but wdiat they wanted. most of all 
was to have a son. They were Christians, so they 
prayed to God for many years that he would give 
them their heart's desire; and wdien at last Nicho- 
las was born, they were the happiest people in the 
world. 

They thought there was no one like their boy ; 
and indeed he was wiser and better than most 
children, and never gave them a moment's trou- 
ble. But alas, wdiile he was still a child, a terrible 
plague swept over the country, and his father 
and mother died, leaving him quite alone. 

All the great riches which his father had pos- 
sessed were left to Nicholas, ana among other 
things he inherited three bars of gold. These 
were his greatest treasure, and he thought more 
of them than all the other riches he possessed. 

Now in the town where Nicholas lived dwelt 
a nobleman with three daughters. They had once 
been vcr\' rich, liut great misfortunes had over- 
taken the father, and now thev were all so poor 
the}' had scarcely enough to live upon. 

At last a day came wdien there was not even 
bread enough to cat, and the daughters said to 
their father : 

"Let us go out into the streets and beg, or do 
anything to get a little money, that we may not 
starve." 

But the father answered: 



''Not to-night. I cannot bear to think of it. 
Wait at least until to-morrow. Something may 
happen to save my daughters from such dis- 
grace." 

Now, just as they were talking together, Nich- 
olas happened to be passing, and as the window 
was open he heard all that the poor father said. 
It seemed terrible to think that a noble family 
should be so poor and actually in want of bread, 
and Nicholas tried to plan how it would be possi- 
ble to help them. He knew they would be much 
too proud to take money from him, so he had to 
think of some other way. Then he remembered 
his golden bars, and that very night he took one 
of them and went secretly to the nobleman's 
house, hoping to give the treasure without letting 
the father or daughters know who brought it. 

To his joy Nicholas discovered that a little 
window had been left open, and by standing on 
tiptoe he could just reach it. So he lifted the 
golden bar and slipped it through the window, 
never waiting to hear what became of it, in case 
any one should see him. (And now do you see 
the reason why the visits of Santa Claus are so 
mysterious ?) 

Inside the house the poor father sat sorrow- 
fully watching, while his children slept. He won- 
dered if there was any hope for them anywhere, 
and he prayed earnestly that heaven would send 
help. Suddenly something fell at his feet, and to 
his amazement and joy, he found it was a bar of 
pure gold. 

"My child," he cried, as he showed his eldest 
daughter the shining gold, "God "has heard my 
prayer and has sent this from heaven ! Now we 
shall have enough and to spare. Call your sisters 
that we may rejoice together, and I will go in- 
stantly and change this treasure." 

The precious golden bar was soon sold to a 
money-changer, who gave so much for it that the 
family were able to live in comfort and have all 
that they needed. And not only was there enough 
to live upon, but so much was over that the 
father gave his eldest daughter a large dowry, 
and very soon she was happily married. 

When Nicholas saw how much happiness his 
golden bar had brought to the poor nobleman, he 
determined that the second dau.ghter should have 
a dowry too. So he went as before and found the 
little window again open, and was able to throw 
in the second golden bar as he had done the first. 
This time the father was dreaming happily, and 
did not find the treasure until he awoke in the 
morning. Soon afterward the second daughter 
had her dowry and was married too. 

The father now began to think that after all it 
was not usual for golden bars to fall from heaven, 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



283 



and he wondered if by any chance hninan hands 
had placed them in his room. 'hhe more he 
thought of it the stranger it seemed, and lie made 
up his mind to keep watch e\-er\- night, in case 
another golden bar should be sent as a portion 
for his \oungest vlanghter. 

And so when Nicholas went the third time and 
dropped the last bar through the little window, 
the father came quickl\' out, anil before Nicholas 
had time to hide, caught him b\- his cloak. 

"O Nicholas," he cried, "is it thou who hast 
helped us in our need? Whv didst thou hide 
thyself?" And then he fell on his knees and 
began to kiss the hands that had helped him so 
graciously. 

But Nicholas bade him stand up and give 
thanks to God instead ; warning him to tell no 
one the story of the golden bars. 

This was only one of the many kind acts Nich- 
olas loved to do, and it was no wonder that he 
was beloved by all who knew him. 

There were manv stories tcdd after the death 
of St. Nicholas, and it helped and comforted 
people to think that, though thev could no longer 
see him, he would love and protect them still. 

Young maidens in need of help remembered 
the story of the golden bars and felt sure the 
good saint would not let them want. Sailors toss- 
ing on the stormv waves thought of a storm 
which had sunk to rest at the praver of St. 
Nicholas. Poor prisoners with no one to take 
their part were comforted bv the thought of other 
prisoners whom he had saved. 

Little children perhaps have remembered him 
most of all, for when the happy Christmas time 
draws near, who is so much in their thoughts as 
St. Nicholas, or Santa Claus, as they call him? 
Perhaps thev are a little inclined to think of him 
as some goorl magician who comes to fill their 
stockings with gifts, but they should never for- 
get that he was the kind bishop who, in olden 
days, loved to make tlie little ones happy. There 
are some who think that even now he watches 
over and protects little children, and for that rea- 
son he is called their patron saint. 

ST. FAITH, THE CHILD MARTYR 

Amoxg the many martyrs who long ago gave up 
their lives, rather than rleny their Master, we 
love to remember one little maid — a martyr and 
saint. We do not know a great deal about her, 
for she lived so very long ago, but what we 
know makes us love and honor her, and speak 
her name with reverence. 

Faith was the name of this little maiden, and 
her home was in France, in the pleasant country 



of Arpiitaine. Her p.arents were rich and noble, 
and she was brought u|) careful!)-, ,aiid taught to 
be courteous and gentle to every one. But she 
did not need much teaching, for her nature was 
sweet and pure, and her face was fair, \vith the 
beauty that shines from within. 

The town in which little Faith lived was called 
Agen, and lay at the foot of a high rugged hill, 
which Seemed to keep guard over it. It was a 
quiet little place, and most of the people who 
dwelt there were Christians, living happily to- 
gether with the good bishop at their head. 

lUit one day a heavy cloud of dust was seen 
rolling along the highroad that led over the 
mountains to the city gates. And messengers 
came running breathlessly into the town, w^arning 
the people that a great company of soldiers was 
marching toward them. It was thought they had 
come from Spain, and the news spread like wdld- 
fire through the town that Dacian, the crudest 
governor of all that country, was riding at their 
head. 

In fear and trembling the people waited. They 
stood in little knots, talking under their breath of 
all the e\'il this man had done; or, shutting them- 
selves into their houses, they scarcely dared to 
Icjok out at the windows. And soon the great 
company came sweeping in, swords clattering and 
armor glittering in the sunshine, rough soldiers 
laughing carelessly as they rode past the fright- 
ened faces. And at their head a cruel, evil-look- 
ing man who glared from side to side, as if he 
were a wild beast seeking his prey. 

Doubtless it pleased him to see how every one 
trembled before him, and he smiled scornfully to 
think how easy a task it would be to teach these 
Christians to deny their God and drag their faith 
in the dust. 

And soon the reason of his coming was known 
to all, for he orrlered it to be proclaimed in the 
market-place, that every Christian who refused 
to sacrifice to the heathen gods should be tortured 
and put to death. /\nd to make his meaning quite 
plain, the soldiers spread out all the terrible in- 
struments of torture, so that men might know 
exactly what lay liefore them if they refused to 
deny Christ. 

But in the night the terrified Christians stole 
silently out of the town, and climbing the high 
hill that overlooked the city, they hid themselves 
in the great caves among the rocks. 

Scarcely any one was left behind. Even the 
good bishop was afraid to stay and face the dan- 
ger, and it seemed as if Christ would have no one 
to fight on his side against the evil company. 

But when morning came, and the furious Da- 
cian discovered that the people had fled, he sent 



284 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



his soldiers to search and bring any who might 
remain hidden in the city, that he might wreal: 
his vengeance on them. 

And among the few that were left thev brought 
to him the httle maid Faitli. She was only a lit- 
tle child, but she did not know what fear meant. 

"You cannot hurt me," she said, looking at the 
cruel, angry faces around her, "because I am not 
yours, but God's," 

And then she signed herself with the sign of 
the cross, and with bent head prayed : 

"Lord Jesus, teach my lips to answer their 
questions aright, so that I may do thee no dis- 
honor." 

Then Dacian looked in anger at the child stand- 
ing there with clasped hands and steadfast eyes, 
and asked her roughly : 

"What is thy name?" 

"My name is Faith," the little maid replied 
with gentle courtesy. 

"And what God dost thou serve?" asked the 
cruel governor. 

"I am a Christian, and I serve the Lord Christ," 
replied the child. 

"Deny him, and sacrifice to our gods," thun- 
dered the governor, "else shalt thou endure every 
kind of torture, until there is no life left in thy 
young body." 

But Faith stood with head erect and hands 
clasped tight together. Not even the ugly instru- 
ments of torture could frighten her. 

"I serve the Lord Christ," she said, "and you 
cannot hurt me, because I am his." 

Such a little maid she was, standing there 
among those rough, cruel men, offering her life 
gladly for the faith of her Master. Such a few 
years she had spent in this bright world, and so 
many stretched in front, holding pleasures and 
promises in store. And now she must give up 
all, must put aside the little white robe and" golden 
sandals, and take instead the robe of sufferino-, 
and go barefoot to meet the pain and torture that 
awaited her. 

And though they scourged her, and made her 
suffer many cruel torments, they could not bend 
her will, nor break her faith. Indeed, it seemed 
as if she did not feel the pain and anguish. 

And God stooped down, and gathered the little 
faithful soul into his bosom. And when the peo- 
ple looked, the child was dead. 

But in the cave among the mountains that very 
day the bishop sat, sad and troubled. 

He was gazing away across the plain to where 
the town lay. half hidden in the mist, thinking of 
those faithful few who had chosen to stay beb^ind 
And suddenly the mist broke in front, and a 
vision stood out clear before him. He saw the 



child Faith being scourged and tortured; he saw 
the flames leaping around her, and then, as he 
looked again, lo I her head was encircled with a 
golden crown set with precious stones, each jewel 
sparkling with light. And from heaven a white 
dove came gently flying down, and rested on the 
child's head, while from its wings a soft dew fell 
that quenched the flames. 

And as the vision faded, the bishop bowed his 
head in his hands and wept. The thought of 
what this child had dared to endure for her Mas- 
ter, while he had shrunk from suffering aught 
for his sake, filled his heart with shame. He 
could not stay there in safety while any of his 
people might suffer as she had done. 

So that night he returned to the city to help 
and comfort the few remaining Christians. Be- 
fore long he too was called upon to suffer death 
for his Lord, and many others gave themselves 
up, led by the example of little Faith. 

Some say that even the rough soldiers were 
touched by the child's death, and many became 
Christians. They began to think that such a re- 
ligion was worth living for, if it could teach even 
a child to die so bravely. 

And so, though she lived such a short time on 
earth, she did a very wonderful work for God, 
and we call her now St. Faith, thinking often of 
her as we read these words: "A little child shall 
lead them." 

ST. CHRISTOPHER, THE GIANT WHO 
CARRIED THE POOR 

An old hermit was sitting in his cell one day, 
when there appeared before him a mighty and 
huge man, who said his name was Offero, and 
told him the strangest of stories. 

"I was strong from my youth up," he said, 
"and beat every comer at games and sports. But 
I wearied of these idle things. A voice within 
me drove me forth, and would not let me be sat- 
isfied. 

"So I put on my armor, and took my sword, 
and journeyed till I came to the palace of the 
greatest king on earth. Him I served, till one 
day I saw him make a sign on his forehead when- 
ever the minstrel who sang before him made 
mention of the Evil One. I would not serve him 
longer, because he feared the Evil One, and was 
not a brave man. So I journeyed on, till in the 
center of a black forest I found Satan keeping 
his court. 

" 'Art thou the bravest king on earth?' I asked. 
And hearing him say that he feared nothing, I 
took service with him. 

"But one day I saw him cower from a little 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



285 



wooden cross set up on the highway, and I chal- 
lenged him, saying : 

"'What! are you the hraN-est'nian on earth, and 
fear a piece of wood?' 

" 'It is not the cross I fear,' said he, 'tint him 
who once hung there.' 

"So I left him, and have e\'er since stri\-en to 
discover who is this Christ that hung U]iiin the 
cross. .\nd now the \-oice within me has hrought 
me to vou. Tell me, I pray \ou, the story of 
Christ.'' 

The hermit told him, and the giant liftdl his 
great sword to the sk\', ami swure that he would 
henceforth serve only Christ. The hermit said 
that Christ did not wish men to fight for him hut 
to fight against e\dl h\' gentle li\'ing ami pra\'er. 

Oft'ero said that might well lie true ; Init ( iod 
evidently had not given him great muscular 
strength for nothing, and that strength he would 
devote to Christ. So the hermit took him to tlie 
banks of a wide and angrv river, and bade him 
dwell there and help poor people to go across it. 
This pleased Offero very well, and he budt a hut, 
and tore up a pine-tree for a staff, and when pioor 
people wanted to cross the angry flood he carried 
them over, and said he did it for the lo\-e of 
God. 

One wild night a little child came to him to be 
carried across, and Offero set him on his shoulder 
and waded into the hurricane. Ijut as he went 
the child grew heavier and heavier, so that Of- 
fero's knees bent under him. ^'et he got across, 
and when he set the child down he said: 

"How is it that you are the heaviest burden I 
ever carried?" 

Then the child became glorious with a won- 
drous light, and said to Offero: 

"Heavy did I seem to thee because I bear the 
sins and sorrows of the wdiole world. I am 
Christ. And because thou hast been kind to the 
weak, and hast borne Christ upon thy shoulders, 
I will call thee henceforth Christopher." 

Then the child vanished, and Christopher (that 
is, the "Christ-bearer") kneeled in the darkness. 

ST. URSULA AND THE TEX THOUSAND 
MAIDENS OF BRITAIN 

A MOST wonderful sight was seen one day m 
Brittany. In a great meadow were gathered to- 
gether more than ten thousand of the finest maid- 
ens from Britaiji, and on a throne was seated the 
Princess Ursula of Brittany, telling these British 
maidens the story of Jesus Christ. 

Princess Ursula was the only daughter of the 
King of Brittany, and so lovely that the story of 
h©r beauty had passed into all lands. Prince 



Conon of Britain desired her for his wdfe, and 
she told him to send her ten of his greatest ladies, 
each escorted by ,a Ihousand maidens, and to wait 
for her (hree ye.ars. ddien she t.aught these ladies 
to be (Christians, and set (jut with them to visit 
foreign lands, wliile Prince Conon at home gave 
himself up to a study of Christ. 

Princess Ursula and her great company of la- 
dies made a wonderful impression wherever they 
went, and manv people became Christians be- 
cause of them. Anil Prince Conon's love waxed 
so strong that he came and followed her, with 
many great bishops and clergy, including even the 
Pope of Rome. And Conon longed for the time 
when Ursula wrmld be his bride: vet was he very 
happy to go across the world wdth her, spreading 
knowledge of the blessed Saviour. And Ursula 
lovefl him, luit she knew that God had a great 
work for her to do. So thev all went together, 
telling people of the love of Christ, 

But in this pilgrimage Ursula came to a place 
where the heathens of the land rose against her, 
and they slew the bishops and clergy, and Prince 
Conon and his knights, and rdl the women except 
Ursula, viliose lo\-elv face dashed the courage of 
the most brutal men, and stayed the hands of the 
most savage. 

So Ursula was brought before the King, and he 
said he would marry her; but she spoke to him so 
truU' of the wicked murders he had done that he 
himself seized up an arrow and shot it into the 
heart of Ursula. And thus it was that Ursula 
came into heaven last of all that shining host who 
had gone acrriss the world at her bidding with the 
message of Christ's love. 

ST. CATHARINE, THE GIRL WHO 
DEFIED AN EMPEROR 

One of the conmionest sights on the night of the 
fourth of July is the catharine-wheel, or wdiat is 
better known to American children as the pin- 
wdieel. A large, showy wheel is made up of a 
wooden hoop, wdth sticks for spokes, and little 
rockets all round the rim, so that when it is fixed 
to a wall and lit the gun-powder inside the rockets 
lights and hisses and spouts sparks, and causes 
the wheel to revolve, so that it looks like a ring of 
brightly colored fire. 

The catharine-wdieel gets its name from a 
saint who was bound to a wdieel. It was St. 
Catharine of Alexandria. She was a Christian, 
and the cleverest girl in Egypt of her day. She 
lived in the fourth century, when most of the 
people about her were heathen. One day she 
heard that the Emperor Maximinus hafl ordered 
that many poor people should be slain as a sacri- 



286 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



fice to the idols the Emperor worshiped, and Cath- 
arine went to his palace and condemned his 
cruelty and stupidity. 

It was in vain that he tried to argue with her. 
She was too clever for him, and what she said 
was too just and right to be affected by anything 
that he could urge. So the Emperor sent for all 
his wise men to argue with her. They were as 
helpless as he had been. She defeated them all 
in a great debate, and many people became Chris- 
tians on hearing her wonderful words. This made 
the Emperor angry, and he ordered that she 
should be put to death— tortured to death on a 
wheel. 

What this wheel was like we do not now ex- 
actly know. One account says that it was shaped 
like an ordinary wheel, but armed with spikes, 
which hurt her at every movement. Another ac- 
count says that it was not one wheel, but four 
wheels joined, armed with teeth. 

Whatever the nature of the wheel, poor Catha- 
rine was bound to it. But a wonderful thing 
happened. No sooner had she been tied to the 
wheel than an angel appeared — so the story in 
the old books runs. The angel loosed her bonds 
and set her free. He broke the wheel in pieces; 
he killed the man who had invented it, and de- 
stroyed also several of the cruel people who had 
gone to see the brave girl tortured. Those who 
escaped ran away, crying, "Great is the God of 
the Christians ! He doeth wondrously both in the 
heavens above and in the earth beneath." 

But the wicked Emperor was not content. He 
had Catharine beaten with scourges, and caused 
her to be cast into a dark dungeon and kept with- 
out food for twelve days. But in her sorrow 
there came to her comforting visions and healing 
for her wounds, and the stories say that a dove 
brought her food. 

At the end of the twelve days the Emperor had 
Catharine led forth, and ordered his executioner 
to strike her head oft' with a sword, and so at last 
she died. 

That is the story which the old books tell. We 
must not believe it all as having happened exactly 
like this. People did not then write history at 
the time that events happened. For years and 
years a story would be told by word of mouth, 
and by the time that it first came to be written 
exaggerations and mistakes would creep m. 

But it is certain that St. Catharine was tortured 
on a cruel wheel, and that she escaped with her 
life from it. The old pictures of her show the 
wheel as her symbol, and to this day we get the 
name of the catharine-wheel, which all boys 
know, though perhaps neither they nor che fire- 
work-makers know how the name came about. 



ST. BENEDICT, THE BOY WHO FLED 
FROM ROME 

Many years ago there was a wealthy family in 
Italy, and the only son was the hero of the house, 
on account of his pleasant, cheerful manners and 
the brightness of his understanding. His parents 
wished him to become a judge, and while he was 
yet a youth they sent him into the great city of 
Rome to study law. But the boy, whose name 
was Benedict, found Rome a dreadful and a 
wicked place ; he was shocked by the luxury that 
met his eyes, and' by the light, flippant, and very 
often evil conversation which reached his ears. 
Instead of thinking about the law, he thought 
about this wickedness, and wondered what God 
must think of the city of Rome. So greatly was 
he shocked by the wickedness of the city that he 
ran away from it, and hid himself in the hills, de- 
termined to serve God in silent loneliness. But 
his old nurse, who loved him dearly, followed 
Benedict, and waited upon him with tender care. 
For a long time he lived in this manner, until it 
seemed to him wrong that he should let this old 
woman fetch him food, and once more he ran 
away. This time he traveled far into the moun- 
tains, and lived in a cave. He did not escape 
temptations in this lonely life, and once he was 
so frightfully tempted to return to Rome that he 
flung himself naked into a thorn-bush and rolled 
in it till the pain had driven all evil thoughts out 
of his mind. 

Many years passed, and people heard of the 
holy man living alone in a cave and thinking only 
of God. They came and visited him. A com- 
pany of monks were so impressed by his preach- 
ing that they asked him to come and rule over 
them, and this he consented to do. But Benedict 
found that the monks lived too easily, and he in- 
troduced a greater sternness into their lives. Then 
the monks repented that they had ever asked him 
to be their superior, and they poisoned some wine 
and presented it to Benedict in a cup. But Bene- 
dict was warned, and he made the sign of the 
cross over the wine, and the cup fell to the ground 
and was shivered into fragments. Then Benedict 
returned to his cave, and many holy men came 
to live near him ; and he built houses for them to 
live in. These monks had to desire three things 
— poverty, purity, and' obedience— and they had 
to agree to work seven hours every day with their 
hands. St. Benedict caught a fatal fever in nur- 
sing the poor, and while he was dying he bade his 
followers bear him into the chapel, where he died 
before the altar. The order of monks that he 
founded grew to be very large and did much for 
the spread of Christianity in Europe. 



CHRISTIAN HEROKS AND TKACHKRS 2S7 

ST. CRISPIX. THE PATROX SAIXT they made these shnes ,vith.,ut u..t of any kitid. 

OE SH0E.AL\K1'":RS Their fame spread, and man;, nt the pe'njde in 

daul \-isUed them, an 1 learned fmni them the 
The patron samt of shoemakers is St. Crispin, storv nf tdiri^t'.s l.,ve. .\t Ian there came to 
and the reason is this : Soi>sons the lieathen emperr.r, and he commanded 
In the third century there hved at Soissons, a that these sh,,emaker> ::hMnId he arrested, and 
small town of Gaul, now Erance, two natives of they were tried, tortured dreadfullv, and after- 
Rome, brothers, Crispin and Crispinianus. ward heheaded. 

They were teachers of Christianity; but they Whenever you see the picture of a saint with 

thought it right to earn their own living, and this the palm (if v'ictorv in one hand, and in the other 

they did by the making of shoes. They charged an awl, you may' know it is either Crispin or 

money to the well-to-do. but for the very poor Crispinianus, the patron saint uf shoemakers. 



SOME FAMOUS MONKS 

The monk is a picturesque figure. He reminds during those weeks of quiet wrote some memora- 

a world too easily vulgar, too easily satisfied with hie books. His devotion to kis ideas concerning 

the frolic of vanity fair, that life carries an im- Christ were of the most devout and sacred kind, 

mense responsibility. He is one of the texts of and we owe it to the monasteries in Upper Egvpt 

Christ in human form: 'AAdiat shall it profit a that S(-ime of those ideas have come down to" us, 

man if he gain the whole world and lose his own Born about 296, Athanasius died in 373. 
soul?" There is more than one way of reading 
this text, but the monk is at least one rendering of 

it. He reminds us that, in comparison with eter- THE EE.VREE.^S AMBROSE, WHO ^E\DE 

nity, man's life is but a shadow. AX E^II'EROR E)0 PEXAXCE 

One monk, as we shall see. was the first to lift 
up a voice for science after a silence of fifteen Of all the monks ^\ho ever lived, if he can prop- 
centuries, erly be called a monk at all, the strangest is St. 

-Vmbrose. At the age of thirtv-six, after a suc- 

ATHAX'ASIUS, A\'HO STOOD BY cessful life as a lawyer, he became a governor. 

HIS IDEAS and li\-ed in Milan. A dispute arose between two 

sects of the Church over the election of a bishop. 

Let us begin with the most curious of all monks There was a dispute in the church that was al- 

— and hardly meet to be called a monk — the fa- most a war. Ambrose hurried to the scene, and 

mous Athanasius. A little man. radiant with in- made an earnest and eloquent appeal to tiie peo- 

telligence. possessing "the face of an angel," ac- pie for Christian beha\dor. As he ceased speak- 

cording to Gregory, Athanasius was said to be ing — so savs the legend — an infant's voice sud- 

' quick in sympathy, pleasant in conversation, and denlv cried out: "Ambrose is bishop." 

still more pleasant in temper, effective alike in The crowd took up the shout. In vain did Am- 

discourse or in action, assiduous in devotions, brose protest that he was a bad man and not fit 

helpful to Christians of everv class and age, a at all to be a bishop : in vain <lid he tr\' to escape, 

theologian with the speculative, a comforter of The -wdiole city insisted, and the lawyer and gov- 

the afflicted, a staff of the aged, a guide of the ernor, selling his goods and putting by his robes 

young," At the age of thirty he was called to be of state, became a Christian bishop. The dav 

Bishop of Alexandria. came when he showed his spirit. The powerful 

In those davs a great controversv trire the Emperor Theodosius ordered a massacre, and the 

Church, and the struggle became at last "the slau.ghter had been carried out. Ambrose, shocked 

whole world against Athanasius, and Athanasius to the soul b_\- this bloodthirsty outrage, v. rote to 

against it." Again and again he was driven from the Emperor, refusing to let him enter the church 

his bishopric; again and again he returned. Once of ^lilan. 

soldiers rushed in to take him at the altar. He The Emperor replied that David had committed 

showed no fear. This devoted son of the Church murder. "Imitate him in his repentance as well 

spent the periods of his exile in monasteries, and as his sin," answered the heroic bishop. For 



288 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



eight months the bishop kept the Emperor at bay. 
Then, one day, the Emperor's courtiers came to 
Ambrose and announced that the Emperor was 
coming. 'T will hinder him from entering the 
vestibule," said Ambrose ; "}-et, if he will play 
the king, I will offer him my throat." Wdien the 
Emperor heard this, he said ; "I will go and re- 
ceive the refusal which I desire." But on meet- 
ing the bishop he said: "I come to offer myself 
to submit to whatever you may prescribe.' 

Ambrose then connnanded him to do public 
penance, and in future — because his temper was 
ungovernable — to let thirty days run between the 
order for capital punishment and its execution. 
Ambrose was a just, fearless, and upright man, 
and his writings are those of a devout and fer- 
vent worshiper of God. Born about 340, Ambrose 
died in 397. 

ST. JEROME, WHO FEED TO 
THE WILDERNESS 

St. Jerome is interesting to us as the Latin trans- 
lator of the Scriptures. He is also interesting 
by reason of the picture he presents to us of a 
man fighting what he considered a dreadful sin; 
namely, a love of books. Poor Jerome was a 
scholar, and he loved old books, and he could 
only be happy with venerable authors full of tales 
of long ago. But a dav came when, brought by 
sickness to death's door, he reflected on the next 
world, and came to the conclusion that pagan 
literature was wicked. 

Before this time he had been a man who loved 
to take part in arguments about the Church ; now 
he became a man who wanted to live the Christ- 
life. Lie became a hermit, and lived in the wil- 
derness. But in the wilderness were books in a 
monastery there, and soon he was among his 
temptations again; he again became mixed up in 
violent arguments. Called to Rome to help in a 
dispute, he became a great favorite with ladies, 
and when he set out to the Holy Land, he was 
followed by a train of these admirers. They built 
three nunneries and a monastery, and Jerome set- 
tled down in this monastery at Bethlehem to write 
the Old Testament in Latin. Jewish rabbis came 
to him by night to help him in his work. 

But whenever an argument broke out in Rome, 
off flew Jerome eagerly, for he simply could not 
keep himself out of an altercation. He was "al- 
ways spoiling for a fight." So violent was his 
manner that the monastery in which he stayed 
v.'as attacked by furious enemies. To the end of 
his life Jerome was a scholar and a disputant. 
No wilderness and no monastery could ever have 
held this worthy man without books. He was a 



good man, and deserved his sainthood, 
was born about 342 and died in 420. 



Jerome 



THE ENGLISH MONK WHO TOOK 
CHRISTIANITY TO GERMANY 

It was a monk from England who, in the eighth 
century, carried Christianity to Germany. His 
name was Winfrid, and he was born probably at 
Kirton or Crediton, in Devonshire, the son of a 
West Saxon chieftain. At seven years he was 
sent to a monastery school in Exeter. The Pope 
saw him in Rome, took a fancy to him, gave him 
permission to go as missionary to the Germans, 
and changed his name to Boniface. 

W^e get a quaint picture of the period in the 
scene which took place between Boniface and the 
heathen of Germany to decide between God and 
Woden. Boniface undertook to chop down their 
sacred oak. The heathen, thinking he would in- 
fallibly be struck down by their wrathful god, 
stood by to watch his destruction. The oak fell 
with a crash; Boniface did not. Whereupon the 
heathen embraced Christianity, and out of the 
oak Boniface built an oratory to St. Peter. 

But alas for poor Boniface I He was himself 
to taste the bitterness of a similar defeat. After 
a life of the most manifold and successful labors; 
after having converted thousands to Christianity, 
set up monasteries, built churches, and even 
crowned a king of France in the name of the 
Pope; after all this Boniface was attacked by a 
body of pagan plunderers, and was slain. The 
poor old man, frail and delicate, fell before the 
clubs of savage robbers. His life was one of the 
most useful, hazardous, and courageous ever lived 
by man. Boniface died in 755. 

ST. BERNARD, WHO DENIED HIMSELF 

One of the most attractive monks in history is 
St. Bernard, called the "last of the fathers," so 
simple was he, so full of faith, so quiet of soul, 
so touched by the spirit of Jesus. He was the 
son of a French knight, and as a boy drew others 
to the religious life. He became a Cistercian 
monk, and set himself to kill all sense of enjoy- 
ment, all desire for pleasure in his own soul. He 
seldom took food till he was on the edge of faint- 
ing, and when friends came he would stop his 
ears with flax so that he might hear no worldly 
talk. This was in his boyhood. 

Some time later we hear him saying of book- 
learning; "You will find something far greater in 
the woods than in books. Stones and trees will 
teach what masters do not know. Think you not 



CHRISTIAX HEROES AND TEACHERS 



289 



vou can suck honey from the rock, and oil from 
the flintv rock? Do not the mountains drop sweet- 
ness, the hills run with mdk and iione\-, and lla- 
vallevs stand thick with corn?" 

He lived the most hard and descdate life, 
preaching repentance with a rare eloi|ucnce. 
When he was fifty-five, and worn to a threatl, he 
was bidden bestir Europe for a second crusade. 
Pale and shrunken, to a degree \\hich seemed 
almost supernatural, he made a long and exhaust- 
ing tour of France and Ciermanw preaching \\dth 
a success so great that in some districts scarcch' 
one man was left to seven women. 

Behind this old man came a young monk stirring 
people up to massacre the Jews. Bernard turned 
back, reproached the monk as "a child of the 
devil," and sent him to his monaster}-. "Had not 
the tender mercv of the Lord sent priest Bernard, 
none of us would have sur\-i\'ed," said a Jew. 
That such a tender and beautiful life of fervid 
pietv should have been lived in the twelfth cen- 
tury is a glorv of Christianity. St. Bernard was 
born in 1091, and died in 1153. 

ST. DO^nXIC AXD THE BLACK FRL\RS 

If every person who crosses Blackfriars Briilge 
in London knew how it came by that name, what 
a great multitude of people would know the ex- 
traordinary story of St. Dominic ! The name 
comes to us from one of the most notable figures 
in the Roman Church — a Spanish priest known 
as St. Dominic, He began life wdth a beautiful 
and earnest devotion to Christ. As a boy he 
prayed often; at the university he sold his clothes 
in a tiine of famine to feed the poor, and offered 
to go as a slave to ^Morocco in place of a poor 
woman's brother who had been captured by the 
]\Ioors. He was ordained a priest, and soon be- 
came kno\yn for the rigor of his life and the elo- 
quence of his preaching. 

So far Dominic was an earnest son of the 
Church, But a day came wdien he \vent on a mis- 
sion to Denmark, and no sooner had he left Spain, 
where the people feared and obeyed the priests, 
than he found himself among people of a vastly 
different character. Shocked by their disobedi- 
ence, by their heresies, and by the manner of their 
life, Dominic set himself to reform or punish 
them. 

Meeting a magnificent cavalcade from Rome 
on the same mission, he exclaimed: "How can 
you expect success wdth all this secular pomp ! 
These men cannot be touched by words wdthout 
corresponding deeds. Throw aside your splendor, 
and go forth as the disciples of old, barefoot, 
without purse or scrip, to proclaim the truth," 



Domimc practised what he preached, and be- 
came a liaref noted, bl.ack-robed, mendicant friar 
— a black friar — ,and set oiU to convert these dis- 
iibeilient children. He founded the order of the 
Dominicans, also called the Black Friars, to wdnom 
the Pope intrusted the conduct of the Inquisition, 
Dominic was born about 1170 and died in 1221. 

ROGER BACON, \\'H(") WAS SAID TO 
KNOW E\-ERVTHIX(^ 

A OKF..\T scholar-monk was the English Roger 
Bacon — "the miracle of the age he lived in," He 
was said to know everything. He marks an in- 
teresting place in human history. From the days 
of Archimedes, about 300 B.C., to the days of 
Roger Bacon, about 1200, science is dumb. Fif- 
teen centuries of silence ! We shall never catch 
up those lost 1500 years. Roger Bacon was the 
first man to break the long silence. This friai 
studied chemistr)' and astronomy. Under one 
Pope he was allowed to work unmolested. But 
soon his knowledge gave offense : he was cast into 
prison in France, and only came out to drag his 
weary way to England, where he soon died — one 
of the many mart)TS of science. Religion now- 
adays does not persecute men of science ; but 
while some members of the Church condemn it, 
all show their approval by using the telegraph 
wire, the railway train, the ocean steamer, and so 
on. Roger Bacon, who lived from 1214 to 1294, 
would have been glad to see this dav, 

THOMAS A KEMPIS, THE LITTLE MONK 
WHO WROTE A FAMOUS BOOK 

Early in the fifteenth century, when Europe was 
in a state of the greatest confusion — England 
fighting France, \vhile two popes, existing at one 
and the same time, were making a havoc of 
Church government — there lived in a poverty- 
stricken monastery in Germany, earning bread 
for himself and his brother monks by copying re- 
ligious books, a little man, wdth soft brown eyes, 
whose name was Thomas ei Ivempis. 

That name was then quite unknown outside the 
monastery walls. To-day it is known in practi- 
cally every language under the sun. The little 
monk knew nothing of the storm in the world. 

He was a deeply religirms, profoundly pious 
man, living a useful and contemplative life. The 
noise of cannon and the shouts of kings reached 
his ears like the sounds of children at play. This 
quiet and simple little man, besides copying other 
people's books, \vrote some of his own. One of 
them, called "The Imitation of Christ," which he 
gave to the world without his name, tells the 



290 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



simple story of the soul in communion with its 
invisihle ilestmy. 

So sweet, so true, so natural, so golden with 
the lireath of a loving, \-earning soul is this little 
hocik of the little monk, that it has heen translated 
into more languages than anv other book in the 
wi:irld except, of course, the Bible. 

Little did Thomas a Kenipis imagine, while he 
wrote, that those words of his would become the 
heartditerature of Europe for centuries. He had 
been reared in a poor cottage, the son of over- 
worked peasants, and his real name of Thomas 
Hammcrken had been changed at school to 
"Thomas from Kenipen," Kempen being the name 
of the little town where his peasant mother had 
nursed him. How wonderful is it that this man 
has sent the name of that humble German town 
round the whole earth bv just writing down, 
again and again, that he loved God and desired 
immortal life ! Thomas a Kempis lived from 
1379 to 1471, 

A MOXIv WHO WAS A GREAT PAINTER 

A VERY famous monk, one of the men wdio helped 
to make Florence beautiful, was the painter 
known to all the world as Era Angelico. In 
books his name is often given as Fiesole, or as 
Era Angelico Fiesole. This may seem a little 
puzzling, but the explanation is simple. His name 
was Guido — we do not know his other name. 
Wdien he became a monk, he had to forsake his 
own name, and take that of Giovanni, Giovanni 
is the Italian name for John. A\daence, then, 
came the names Angelico and Fiesole ? He was 
born at Fiesole, the little hamlet on the hill above 
Florence, and he was called the "angelic friar," 
because of his paintings of angels. 

It was in 13S7 that Angelico was born, and 
wdien he was twentv years of age he entered the 
monastery at Fiesole, to devote his life entirely 
to religion and painting. He painted nothing but 
religious subjects, and preached beautiful ser- 
mons with his brush. His first paintings, as a 
young monk, were done at the citj^ of Cortona, 
but they have now been destroyed. In 1418 he 
was recalled to Fiesole, and labored there until 
1436. Then he went down the hill into Florence, 
to reside in what was then the Dominican con- 
vent of St. JMark, but is now a national mu- 
seum. 

Here he executed some of the most famous of 
the paintings which are still to be seen. Some 
remain where he painted them ; others have been 
removed to places more secure. ]\Iost of them 
have been left just as his brush finished them; 
those which have been "restored," as it is called, 



have been spoiled. His fame spread, and he was 
called to do paintings at Orvieto and Fiesole. 

Era Angelico's work at Fiesole included a pic- 
ture now in the National Gallery in London. It 
is a magnificent painting of Christ bearing the 
banner of the resurrection, attended by a host of 
saints. This picture serves to show how industri- 
ous Era Angelico was, for in it 266 figures of 
saints are drawn. 

After he had been nine years at Florence, Fra 
Angelico was summoned by the Pope to Rome. 
The Pope had heard of the painter's godly life as 
well as of his work as an artist, and wished to 
make him archbishop of Florence. 

Angelico was as modest as he was good and 
skilful. He prayed the Pope not to make him 
accept the dignity, and the Pope permitted him to 
remain a humble friar, and appointed instead a 
friend of Fra Angelico, In 1445, and again in 
I4tS. Angelico worked in the A^atican, He died 
in Rome in the latter year, and there he was 
buried. 

There never was a more beautiful life than that 
of Fra Angelico. He labored with all his zeal 
for the poor, who regarded him as a brother. He 
regarded his ability to paint as a gift from God. 
Wdien he wished to paint he used to kneel and 
prav. Then he rose and did the work upon which 
he had set his mind. \\'hat he had once painted 
he never altered. 

Fra Angelico felt that everything he did as an 
artist was in answer to his prayers, and that 
therefore it must stand, as of too holy an origin 
to be touched up or improved. Religion was to 
him his hope and joy, and he tried to lead others 
to share his rapture by the most beautiful paint- 
ings of heavenlv beings, and by presenting, with 
all his tender genius, the stories of the Bible. He 
painted the sorrows of Jesus as well as his tri- 
umphs. These were sad days in the life of Fra 
Angelico, and he would weep bitterly as he 
painted the Crucifixion. 

SAVONAROLA, THE GREAT jMONK WHO 
MADE KINGS TREJMBLE 

Savonarola is one of the picturesque figures of 
the Middle Ages. In the midst of that gorgeous, 
wicked, and careless period, we see the shrunken 
figure and the gaunt face of a little hooded man, 
wdrose glowing black eyes, flashing judgment and 
anger, glance like lightning on the crowd from 
under the shadow of his cowl. He was terrible 
to sin. Rulers feared him, wicked people ma- 
ligned him, and the populace was swept like a sea 
by the tempest of his preaching. He came from 
his monastery to chastise the world. The world 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



291 



accepted the conflict, Savonarola was raised high 
in honor, then tried, tortured, hanged, and burneil. 
His ashes were tlirown into tlie ri\-er. 

Such, in brief, is his historw Wdien we Imik 
more closely at this great figure we are puzzled 
bv nian\' things. Some people wnuld ha\-e us be- 
lieve that scarcely a greater hero .ever crossed the 
earth: others that he was perhaps the gmsscst 
impostor who ever li\-ed. To-da\- men reail his- 
torv not to take sides in a fight. luit to see the 
truth of things. Savonarola appears to us nr.w 
a strange mixture of nobility and delusirm. \\> 
call him a hero, we cannot call him an impostor; 
but we can criticize him. 

He seems to us not a man wIki sought to de- 
ceive, but was himself unconsciouslv deceived. 
He believed, for instance, that evil spirits came 
and wrestled with him in his cell; that the Holv 
Spirit settled on his shoulder in the form of a 
dove, and spoke in his ear through the dove's 
beak; he declared that he con\'ersed with (iod; 
he saw visions of the most frightful and appalling 
description. 

This, in our dav of calm reason and medical 
knowledge, assures us that the heroic soul of this 
good man was afflicted bv the distempers of his 
brain. The preacher who swavs a nniltitude neeils 
a cool head. The severe discipline practised by 
Savonarola — his brief hours of sleep, his long 
prayers, his sparing food, his deficiencv of health}' 
physical exercise — unfitted him for meddling in 
politics. He was certainlv a verv dangerous man. 

But his courage was magnificent. His hatred 
of vice and luxurv was most honest. .\s he passed 
to the gibbet on which he was burned — in sight 
of the cathedral where great crowds had flocked 
to hear his preaching — a bishop said ; 

"I separate thee from the Church militant and 
the Church triumphant." 

"Xot frran the Church triumphant." replied the 
monk, with quiet confidence, "that is be}'ond }-our 
power." 

Savonarola was born in 1452, and died in 149^*^. 
A famous portrait of him by a fellow-monk. hTa 
Eartolommeo. was painted from life, and the 
original still hangs in Savonarola's cell at the 
monastery in Florence. 

THE SPANISH SOI^DIER WHO FOUNDED 
THE ORDER OF JESUITS 

Ix 1491 there was born in a Spanish castle a 
boy destined to become one of the most f;unous 
men who ever threw off the world to put on the 
monk's hood. This was Inigo Lopez de Recalde. 
known to history b}- his monk's name and his 
Roman sainthood, as St. Ignatius de Loyola. He 



was a nobleman, and grew up on his father's 
estate without learning of any kind. He became 
a jKige in the einn4 nf Ferdinand, ami, later, em- 
braced the prdfessiiin of arms. While f(]llowing 
the calling cit a snldier. he was se\-erel\' wounded 
in the right leg al the siege nf Pamplona. Wdiile 
he l;i\- in his f,;ither's castle reco\-ering himself of 
this W(]und, certain liooks of religion, given to 
him til while awa\' his idleness, laid a hold on his 
soul. 

W hen he rose fnnn the bed it was to iourney 
to a church, where he hung up his soldier's arms, 
and viAved himself to live a religious life. He 
remn\-cd himself to a hospital, and worked in 
menial offices to learn humilitv. Then he jour- 
neyed tri Jerusalem, and came Ijack inspired wdth 
the idea of fijunding a new religious society. He 
put himself to school to learn. WdTile learning 
he licgan to influence men. From citv to city he 
went, begging his wav, until at last in Paris he 
found freedom, and there he lixed as a mendicant. 
At the uniA'ersit\- his persuasive powers drew cer- 
tain \'iiung men to his side, and at the age of 
fort\--six he was ordained, and set out on his 
preaching mission. 

Incredible miracles have been ascribed to him. 
but the miracle of Loyola lies in his creation of 
the lesuits. a societ\' spread all over the world, 
and working in man\' languages to one and the 
same end. 

I'nr a man who was not ordained until he was 
nearU' fift\-. and who was fighting at the age of 
thirt\-, this is a must remarkable achieA-ement. 

lie drew men tn him by the force of his holi- 
ness. It is narrated of him that while in Paris 
he sought to gain the attection of a young student 
named Na\der, who withstood all the earnest ad- 
vances of the religious zealot. 

One dav Xavier, having done well in the class 
for philosophv, was strutting aluiiut in great pride, 
when Ignatius came to his ear and whispered; 
"What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole 
world and lose his own soul?" Xavier was con- 
verted, and became the famous St. Francis Xavier 
of the lesuits. .Such was the real power of Igna- 
tius—a personal influence on the side of holiness. 
Loyola died at Rome in 1556. utterly worn out by 
his labors and his severe mode of life. 

The distinguishing feature nf the Jesuit Order 
is that tlie members do not retire from the world 
and shut themseh'cs up within the walls of a 
monasterv. where the\' know little or nuthing of 
the bus\' world, ,aiid the bus)- \vnrlil knows little 
and cares less almut them. They remain very 
much in the wnrld, and are acti^'e in the homes 
of men. in the |)arliament of nations, and in the 
councils of Rome. They are monks of the world. 



292 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



GREAT CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES 



There are many battles where no gun is fired, 
and real heroes who wear no red coats, for Peace, 
as John Milton sang, has her victories no less re- 
nowned than war. Among the world's great 
heroes stand out the names of many brave men 
and women who have gone out .to teach the Bible 
to peoples of distant lands, and to carry the bless- 
ings of Christianity into uncivilizetl countries. 

The missionarv, who fulfils the command of 
Jesus to his disciples, "Go ye into all the world 
and preach the Gospel to every creature," cheer- 
fully leaves his native land, his home, and his 
friends, to spend his life where there is no civili- 
zation, no comfort or safety, to dwell with dark- 
skinned men who worship ugly idols and are 
given to superstitious and cruel practices. The 
climate is often deadly, and his health breaks 
down where no doctor can advise or help; he has 
to endure hardships and sufferings, and the work 
of years seems sometimes almost hopeless until 
he gains the confidence of the natives. 

To this consecrated service some of the best 
students from our colleges gladly give themselves, 
but we shall see how many of the best mission- 
aries come of humble parents. They have very 
often been poor boys who have taught themselves, 
and have had to overcome many difficulties in 
their earlv davs. They have made all the better 
missionaries for this, for in their work abroad 
they have been able to build their own houses and 
to teach their converts how to cultivate the land 
and to do other useful work. Of course, they 
have had to learn the language, and after that 
have often done good service in translating the 
Scriptures and many of our well-known hymns 
into the native tongues. The missionary is the 
pioneer— the first in the field ; he makes it possi- 
ble for trade to follow in his steps; for the na- 
tives will believe in the white men who come on 
business, because they respect and trust the one 
who has Ijeen their good friend and taught them 
to live rightly. 

Let us look at some of these brave missionaries, 
whose names have become household words all 
over the world. 

HAXS EGEDE, THE FIRST ^MISSIONARY 
TO GREENLAND 

The Moravians are the pioneers of modern mis- 
sionary enterprise, for although they are a very 
small body, thev have had more than 2000 mis- 



sionaries in different parts of the world in the 
last two centuries. One of the most famous of 
these was Hans Egede, a young Danish min- 
ister of the ^Moravian Brethren, who sailed from 
Bergen, in Norwa}-, in the year 1718, to live 
among the Eskimos in the frozen North. He 
landed on the inhospitable shores of Greenland, 
and soon found how difficult it was to teach peo- 
ple so gloomy and superstitious, and for years he 
had to endure great hardships with little encour- 
agement. 

But he held on, and at one time, when the 
Eskimos were plague-smitten, he made his house 
their hospital, and tenderly nursed them, an act 
of mercy that won their gratitude. Egede was 
a man of simple faith, and with great humility did 
his work at a time when there were few mission- 
aries anywhere, and none at all in the arctic re- 
gions. As quite an aged man he returned home 
to Copenhagen, bringing his wife's remains for 
burial among her own people, and on November 
7, 175S, he too entered into his rest. 



CAREY THE COBBLER, W'HO BECAIVIE 
THE EATHER OE AIODERN MISSIONS 

But it is to AA'illiam Carey, the learned cobbler 
who translated the Scriptures into Bengali, that 
we owe the organization of missionarv work and 
enterprise in the churches of English-speaking 
lands. A\'hen the popular idea, and even the be- 
lief of clergymen and ministers, was that if God 
wanted the heathen to be Christians he would 
convert them in some miraculous way himself, 
Carey taught the great truth that it was the duty 
of Christian men in England and other lands 
where the Gospel was know-n and loved to carry 
out the Divine commission and go and preach to 
others. 

Care}' was a country boy, born in the village of 
Paulerspury, near Northampton, England, and his 
father, who was parish clerk and schoolmaster, 
taught his son so well that his mother used to 
hear him counting in his sleep. William liked 
books, and was also fond of gardening. Picking 
up a little Greek and Latin while working as a 
shoemaker, he became a Baptist minister on fl6 
a year, and to add to his income still made and 
mended shoes, and did a little teaching. 

One of the outstanding events in modern mis- 
sionary history is the famous sermon preached 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



293 



by Carey at a meeting of ministers at Xotting- time in learning Hindustani. After a sliort stay 
liam. in June, 1792, that led to the formation of at the Cape he reached Madras on April 22, 1806. 

In his Indian work he met with great opposi- 
tion, not so much from the natives as from the 
English officials, civil and militar)'; but he per- 
sistently labored on, translating the Riljle with his 
faithful nwoiishcc, or teacher, by his side. He 
also turned his eyes toward Persia, and with great 
pains and patient scholarship translated the Xew 
Testament into Persian, traveling in that country 
that he might get to know and thoroughly under- 
stand the people. 

The Mohammedans, however, treated him and 
the Bible that had cost him so much labor to 
translate with scant respect. Finall_\-, in a time of 
plague and fe\-er, he passed away at Tokat, in 
October, 1812, writing: "O Lord, thv will be done ! 
Living, dying, remember me!" Lord Macaulay 
wrote his epitaph, and he is counted as one of the 
saints of the great missionarv calendar. 



the Baptist Missionary Society, the first organiza 
tion of its kind. The text was Isaiah liv. 2-3, 
and the preacher divided his sermon under two 
heads: "Expect great things from God," "At- 
tempt great things for God." words that after- 
ward became the motto of the societw 

The sermon made a profound impression, and 
the ministers decided there and then that b\- their 
next meeting, which was to he at Kettering, in 
the same year, a plan for the formation of a 
missionary society should be prepared, and this 
was done. 

Then came his call to India as a missionarv for 
Bengal, hut he had difficulty in getting there be- 
cause of the opposition of officials. Arrived at 
Calcutta, Carey found himself and fannlv home- 
less, friendless, and with scarcely anv mone\-. He 
tried to earn something by planting indigo, and at 
once gave himself up to the translation of the 
Xew Testament into Bengali, and became so pro- 
ficient in that language that he was appointed. one 
of the tutors in Fort AXdlliam College. Through 
his efforts, joined with those of other mission- 
aries, the government passed a law forbidding the 
burning of widows, and during his fortv vears of 



ROBERT MORRISOX. AMdO G.W'E THE 
CHIXESE PEOPLE THE BIBLE 

Robert ]Morrisox. like Care^■. was a shoemaker, 
and it was he who translated the Bible into Chi- 
nese. It often happens that a missionarv has one 



splendid Christian labor he earned the position of part of the world in his mind, and yet goes to 
distinction which he holds in the history of mis- 
sionary enterprise. A domed tomb of solid stone, 
in the cemetery at Calcutta, marks his resting- 
place, the only inscription, at his own request, 
being his name and the date, with the words: 



another. 'Livingstone's original intention was to 
go to China, but he went to Africa. So ]\Iorri- 
son, who meant to follow i\lungo Park to Tim- 
buctu, found his real sphere in China. 

As a youth he learned his father's trade at 
Morpeth, England; but before .going abroad he 
not only became a medical student at St. Bar- 
tholomew's Hospital, but found a ^"oung China- 
man in London who taught him his language, and 
also showed him the sort of people to wdiom he 
was going to preach across the distant sea. 

Arriving there, he let his hair grow, and wore 
AxoTHER noted English missionarv to the people a pigtail, and tried to live like a Chinaman until 
of India was Henrv ^lartvn, the Cambridge stu- his health failed. His great w-ork was the trans- 



'A wretched, poor, and helpless worm, 
On thv kind arms I falh " 



THE GREAT LABORS OE 
HEXRY MARTYX 



dent, who traveled also in Persia. He was a 
Cornish boy of Truro, but was so weak in bod_\' 
that it seemed impossible that he would make any 
mark in the world, or live to find himself famous. 
But at St. John's College, Cambridge, he showed 
great aptitude for study, and it w-as during a va- 
cation spent in Wales that his heart responded to 
the call to enter the mission field. While at the 
university, he became fast frienrls with another 
deeply religious student, Henry Kirke White, the 
X'ottingham poet. After his father's death, Mar- 
tyn had to make some provision for his sisters, so 
he went out to India as a chaplain under the 
Board of the East India Company. On the voy- 
age out he preached to the crew, and spent much tyr of Erromanga," was a young blacksmith. It 



lation of the Bible ; but he also gave the English 
Prayer-bonk to these people in their own tongue. 
But he was of great ser\dce to tlie English gov- 
ernment in difficulties which arose with the Chi- 
nese, and at one time he was the secretarv and 
interpreter of tlie consul. Before he died, in 
■ 1834, Morrison had finished his great dictionary 
of the Chinese language in six quarto volumes. 
To-dav, all the Christian workers and their con- 
verts in China read the Bible he left behind. 

THE MARTYR OF ERROMANGA 
John Williams, known everywhere as "the Mar- 



294 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



was in City Road, London, that he swung the 
hammer at the forge. One Sunday night in 1S14 
a good old woman took him to the Alooriields 
Tabernacle, which led to his conversion, and to 
his future career as a missionary. 

He had little education, but was quick-witted, 
and impressed people with his honesty ; he had 
also the knack of sticking to a thing, otherwise he 
would never have mastered the language of Ta- 
hiti, in the Society Islands, where he first went 
to preach the Gospel. He taught the natives some 
valuable lessons in handicraft, as they watched 
him build first his house, and afterward his mis- 
sion ship, the "iMessenger of Peace," with scarcely 
any tools. Perhaps the most difficult task was to 
make a pair of smith's bellows of goatskins, 
which the rats ate before morning. 

In his boat, with mat-sails, he made dangerous 
voyages from time to time, thousands of natives, 
vi'ho loved him, bidding him farewell with songs 
of sorrow. Six times Williams was nearly 
drowned, the sea-waves dashing his vessel on the 
rocks. He was spared, however, to evangelize 
these South Sea Islands, and translated the New 
Testament into Raratongan. He came home, after 
many years, to plead the cause of these poor peo- 
ple in England. Returning on November 20, 1839, 
he landed with three companions on the shore at 
Erromanga. But the natives were hostile. A big 
savage struck Williams on the head, killing him, 
and a shower of arrows followed. In a few mo- 
ments "the rippling water was red with the blood 
of the noblest man that has ever gone to those 
far-off isles of the South Sea, laden with bless- 
ings for the ignorant and outcast." 



THE SAILOR WHO CARRIED 
THE GOSPEL EAR 

When George III. was King, voung Allen Gar- 
diner, the middy who took Christianity to the 
wild Patagonians, had his first taste of the sea in 
war-time. Later, be bought a Bible at a second- 
hand shop, the reading of which changed his 
whole life, and he went to Africa, after many 
dangerous adventures, preaching the Gospel to 
Dingan, the Zulu chief, over whom he exerted a 
good influence. After a time he sailed for Brazil 
— for South America was in great need of the 
Gospel— and earnestly worked among the Indians 
of Chile. Several times he nearly lost his life, 
but, nothing daunted, he resolved to visit Tierra 
del Euego, and landed among the Patagonians 
with a few brave companions. Lie found these 
people very degraded, as Darwin had described 
them, but, with infinite patience and faith, Gar- 



diner tried to bring light to their dark hearts 
The closing days of this brave life were very pa- 
thetic. Landing at a certain point, he and his 
helpers found themselves without food. John 
Pearce, one of the number, crawled along the 
beach to say that Joseph Erwin had not spoken 
for two days, and when Gardiner, after a painful 
struggle, reached the place, Erwin lay stiff and 
cold. Still another, John Bryant, was found cold 
and dead, with a smile upon his face, not far 
awa)'. 

Thus died they all, waiting for the help that 
never came. A month afterward an English ship 
anchored by the still shores of Tierra del Fuego. 
All was silent in that dreary region. Along the 
beach the faithful martyrs lay. The captain cried 
like a child at the awful sight. 

Gardiner had fallen down by the boat, too weak 
to climb back again, and scattered on the beach 
were the papers on wdiich he had written in pencil 
the story of their sufferings. Written on the 
rocks were the words : "My soul, wait thou only 
upon God, for my expectation is from him," 
painted there by Allen Gardiner as he lay, racked 
with pain, waiting for death. 



HOW ROBERT MOFFAT DID 
PIONEER WORK 

Robert Moff.-vt was a young gardener, and he 
became the pioneer missionary of South Africa. 
Lie was born at Ormiston, in East Lothian, Scot- 
land, in 1795, and his early days were divided 
between his Latin grammar, the blacksmith's ham- 
mer, and his violin. Afterward he became an 
under-gardener in Cheshire. Seeing a placard 
of a missionary meeting, he attended, and this so 
influenced him that, after much prayer, he offered 
himself as a missionary. 

He sailed for the Cape on September 18, 1816, 
and his first work, having learned Dutch, was 
with the farmers and the poor Hottentots, who 
were little better than their slaves. He visited 
Africander, "the Bonaparte of South Africa," 
and greatly influenced him for good, bringing 
him down to Cape Town, to the astonishment of 
the Dutch. He then founded the mission stations 
in Namaqualand, and worked among the Bechu- 
anas at Lattaku. 

He translated part of the New Testament into 
the Bechuana language, and returning for a visit 
to England in 1840, he was able to translate some 
of the Old Testament, including the Psalms. In 
the year 1873, as a tall, white-bearded old man, 
he was invited by Dean Stanley to speak at West- 
minster Abbey, and a great crowd listened with 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



295 



reverence to his thrilling story of work among 
the natives of South Africa. 

His later work was at Kuruman, where his 
daughter married Li\-ingstone, and at last, with 
his faithful wife, he returned home, and died full 
of years and public honors in August, 18S3, tlie 
veteran apostle of the mission field. 

\\'e tell about Da\'id Eivingstonc, the Scottish 
weaver-boy, in another place. We also gi\'e else- 
where the story of Father Daniien, who ga\-c his 
life in order to relieve the sufferings of the lepers 
in Hawaii. 



GLADSTONE'S FRIEND, WHO BECA:\IE 
A [MISSIONARY BISHOP 

Bishop Selwyx, the athletic stmlcnt who worked 
so hard in New Zealand, was burn in an old- 
fashioned rectory at Hampstead, England, on 
April 5, iSoq. After some preparatorv schooling 
at Ealing, the boy. who one day was to be a 
bishop, was sent to Eton, wdiere he made friends 
with many who like himself became in later ^"ears 
great men. His school chum was W. E. tjlad- 
stone. and their friendship remained till the verv 
last. Here, and afterward at the university. Sel- 
wyn was first in all the sports. It was said of his 
good nature that "he ahva^-s took the laboring -oar 
in everything." He could dive like none other, 
and in the grounds was "Selw\-n's bush," over 
which he leaped and turned a somersault into the 
river on the other side. In due time he became 
a curate at Windsor, and be was consecrated 
Bishop of New Zealand on Octolier 17, 1841. 

The }iIaoris were not yet settled to Englisli rule, 
and in the conflicts that often occurred the per- 
sonal influence of Bishop Selwyn counted for 
much. The i\Iaoris trusted him. and he was 
peacemaker often at great risk to himself. ' I 
am your mediator," he used to sn\' to them. "I 
have eaten your food, slept in your houses, talked 
with you, prayed with you; let us dwell together 
with one faith, one love, and one Lord." He 
traveled through the country, and once, after vis- 
iting an island, he brought two little girls back 
with him, arraved in garments made by himself 
out of an old quilt. 

After Selwyn returned home be became Bishop 
of Lichfield, where he worked hard, and at last, 
on April 11, 1878, lav d}-ing. Calling some chil- 
dren to his bedside, he said softly : "I wish you 
were little robins so that you might sit on my 
finger." Soon afterward he wdiispered in the 
Maori language: 'Tt is light," and, smiling, passed 
to the land of everlasting day. It was a fittmg 
close to such a faithful life. 



THE BRAVE BISHOP HANNINGTON, 
WHO DIED A MAR'T'YR 

Bishop IL\nnington, the merry schoolboy, who 
died lor the faith in Africa, was such a cheerful 
_\()ulli that the>' called him "jMad Jim" at school, 
and all through his life this happy-heartedness 
never left him. He had a pleasant curacy in 
Devonshire, and then went to Hurstpierpoint, in 
Sussex, where, though married and settled with 
his famih' around him, the call of God came to 
Ilannington to go to Africa as a missionary. He 
landed at Zanzibar in 1882, and traveled up the 
country, through dense forests, perils by robbers 
and wild animals, and eventually reached Uyui, 
near to the spot where Stanlev had said good-by 
to Li\-ingstone some vears before. Whenever he 
met the chiefs be preached to them of Christ; and 
.-ifter reaching the great lake called Victoria Ny- 
anza he turned homeward, and was in England 
again after a \'car's absence. In 1884 he went out 
again to Equatorial Africa, labored at Uganda, 
was captured bv a treacherous chief, and, after 
declaring to the natives that he was ready to die 
fijr L'ganda. was shot with his own gun. 



THE ENGINEER WHO BECAME 
A MISSIONARY 

AxoTiiER devoted missionary who died at the post 
of dut\' in Uganda was a young engineer named 
Alexau'ler iMackay. He was never anything but 
plain Mr. Mackay, a young man with an apostolic 
spirit and a large heart of grace and faith. Born 
a Scotsman, in a Free Church manse, he studied 
hard for bis profession, both in Edinburgh and 
Berlin, reading also good books, but never neg- 
lecting the Bible his mother gave him when he 
left home. 

He was al\va\-s a strong character, and wlien he 
was in L^ganda, faced by worries and persecu- 
tions enough to daunt anybody, his spirit was un- 
dismayed. He passed through the terrible experi- 
ences of those early years when he had to fight 
not only "the heathen in his blindness," but the 
jMoslem and Christian factions which strove for 
conquest. 

Mackay told his wonderful story in his letters 
home, never making much of his part of it, though 
he was really the hero of many a struggle. He 
wrote articles trying to open the eyes of his 
friends in England to the real needs and troubles 
of Africa, all the wliile he was working away at 
jjractical things, with his heart full of the love of 
Cod. Mackay always thought of himself last. In 
one of his letters he said: "But what is this you 



296 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



write — 'Come home'? Surely, now, in our terri- 
ble deartli of workers, it is not the time for any 
of us to desert his post." Mackay died of fever 
on the morning of February 8, i8go, still voung 
in years, but in Christian service almost a veteran. 



HOW TAMES CHAL^IERS WAS KILLED 
WHILE TRYING TO MAKE PEACE 

James Cii.\lmers is often spoken of as Tamate, 
the name by which he was known in New Guinea. 
When he iirst landed, a native called out : "W^hat 
fellow name belong vou?" "Chalmers," was the 
answer. "Tamate, Tamate," the nati\"e shouted 
as he ran hack to his companions. This is how he 
came to go to New Guinea : his father, who 
gave him sixpence for learning the 23d Psalm, 
was a stonemason in Argyllshire, and sent the 
boy to Sunday-school, where he heard from his 
teachers of the need of help in Fiji. 

Coming home he determined to answer the ap- 
])eal. From that time his face was turned toward 
the mission field. After going- to Cheshunt Col- 
lege he was ordained at East Finchlcy, and in due 
time started for Samoa and Raratonga, in the 
Pacific. He took with him a good, brave wife, 
who shared his trials. Llis work among the can- 
nibals in these islands was rendered more difficult 
by the strong drink they took, that Europeans 
brought to them. But he loved the savages, 
though he often stood in great peril when dealing 
with strange chiefs, who tried to rob him and 
threatened his life with their clubs and spears. 
But Tamate, unarmed, defied them, and lived to 
be a white-haired old man. Then, one day, hear- 
ing of trouble among the natives on Goaribari 
Island, be went up the Ely River and, in his fear- 
less way, walked among them, seeking to make 
them quiet and peaceful; but they knocked him 
down and speared him, and afterward feasted 
upon his body. 

THE RAIN THAT CAME UP FROM A 
HOLE IN THE EARTH 

John G. P.\ton, a Dumfries laddie, became the 
Apostle of the New Hebrides. He won this title 
of honor by living among the natives of these 
islands until his hair was white, gaining their 
love by his patience and helpfulness, and teach- 
ing them how the grace of God could make the 
very worst of men good. 

He left Glasgow as a young man, and the chief 
of the Island of Tanna told him the fever would 
soon kill him; but his life was mercifully spared 
not only from disease, but from the clubs of these 



cannibals; for he was not afraid to stand between 
quarreling tribes; and on one occasion his house 
with all his books and medicines, was burned to 
the ground. 

Paton believed in prayer, and one of the won- 
derful stories he used to tell was how, when all 
the natives were suffering from drought, he dug 
a well in sight of them all, asking God to send 
water. The people had never heard of such a 
thing, and one chief said to Paton : 

"No, missi ; you will never see rain coming up 
from the earth on this island. We wonder what 
is to be the end of this mad work of yours. We 
expect daily, if )'ou reach water, to see you drop 
through into the sea, and the sharks will eat you! 
That will be the end; death to you, and danger to 
us all." 

When at last the water came in refreshing 
springs, the people brought their idols and burned 
them, promising to worship only the one true 
God. 

LAS CASAS AND HIS MISSION 
IN AMERICA 

The title "Protector of the Indians" was given 
to Bartolome de las Casas by the rulers of Spain, 
who claimed all the lands in America discovered 
by Spaniards. As early as 1498 Las Casas began 
to earn his title, when he was a student at Sala- 
manca. At this time Spain and adjacent coun- 
tries were interested in the strange discoveries 
made by Columbus, and several Indians had been 
sent to Spain. One of them was given as a pres- 
ent to Las Casas, but the young student promptly 
made arrangements for the return of the Indian 
to his native island, now known as Haiti. In 
after years, when Las Casas came to the New 
World, he met this Indian, who rejoiced to see 
his benefactor. 

Las Casas was born at Seville, in 1474. Soon 
after finishing his course at the LTniversity of 
Salamanca, where he studied philosophy, theol- 
ogy, and jurisprudence, he joined a party of young 
noblemen who were going to the West Indies. 
Although educated as a lawyer, in the year 1500 
he was engaged in mining and farming in the 
New World. Then, as when a student at Sala- 
manca, he was interested in the welfare of the 
Indians, many of whom he had in his employ- 
in fact, he held them as slaves, as did others of 
his countrymen in the West Indies. In 1510 he 
was ordained to the priesthood, the first clergy- 
man ordained on American soil for work among 
the natives. 

The Indians enslaved by the Spaniards were 
not accustomed to severe manual labor, and were 



CHRISTIAN HF.ROES AND TEACHERS 



297 



often treated cruelly in onlcr to make them ac- 
complish more work. Las Casas eniIea\-oreil to 
persuade his countr^nien to treat them with more 
kindness. Six years after his ordination he was 
appointed to the charge of protecting and con- 
verting the Indians. I lis first work was to teach 
them about God and their duties toward their 
Creator. j\Iany times he faced death to defend 
them, as at the massacre of a large nmiilicr at the 
Indian town of Caonao. Las Casas was resting 
after a long Journey, ^\dlen he was awakened by 
the shouts of Spanish soldiers and the cries of 
their poor victims. At once he ran into the midst 
of the carnage and tried to direct the Indians to 
places of safetv. while he implored their murder- 
ers to cease their inhuman work. 

The Indians loved Las Casas, and obeyed him 
like children. He. with others of his own spirit, 
might at that time have converted and civilized 
all the natives. Had there been no Las Casas in 
the West Indies, the Indians of that portion of 
America would soon have perished ; for while 
manv were murdered, many others died in the 
mines from overwork, lack of nourisliment, and 
harsh treatment. AMien Las Casas wrote the his- 
torv of those times, he excused some of the cruel 
deeds of his country-men on the ground that the 
white men were often seized with an ungovern- 
able fear wdien they saw large numbers of In- 
dians who hated their masters. Many of the 
Spaniards who first came to the West Indies were 
criminals and adventurers greedy of riches, no 
matter how obtained. Las Casas and his fellow- 
workers often found the task of making Span- 
iards act like civilized beings much more difficult 
than teaching the natives hcjw to act as Chris- 
tians. 

After Las Casas had been ordained to the priest- 
hood, he retained his mines and plantations ior a 
short period. He placed in charge men who were 
kind to the Indians. In 1514 he began a new- 
method of protecting the natives. Assisted by a 
trusty layman, he partitioned all the property 
among those thought deserving, retaining only a 
horse for his own use. He began a more vigorous 
campaign, not only against the cruel treatment of 
the Indians, but also against the injustice of hold- 
ing them as slaves. Finally he decided to place 
matters before King Ferdinand, and he used wis- 
dom in preparin.g for his mission. His intention 
of returning to Spain he announceil in such a 
manner that many thought he was discouraged, 
and that he would go home never to return. He 
obtained from Velasquez, then representing Spain 
in Cuba, "a written testimonial of the important 
services he had rendered to the Spanish crown 
and to religion in the pacification of the islands." 



This testimonial served a good purpose when in- 
lluential slaveholders learned that Las Casas was 
m Spain trying to interest the King in the cause 
of the Indians. Las Casas obtained interviews 
with Ferdinand, to whom he pictured the hard- 
ships of the Indians in the mines, and the cruel- 
lies of the masters, wdno were largely to blame for 
the death of thousamls without a knowledge of 
( iod or tlie grace of the sacraments. Ferdinand 
was shocked at the story, but before positive ac- 
tion had lieen taken he died. 

Las Casas worked on, and the two men w-ho 
ruled Spain as regent and ambassarlor until the 
heir, afterward the Emperor Charles V., was old 
enough to reign in place of his grandfather, King 
Ferdinand, were soon listening to the tale of 
cruelty. The Protector was heard, and a real at- 
tempt was made to assist him. The Indians were 
to be treated like freemen of the crown. Hence- 
forth the Spaniards in the West Indies were to 
'dive off their own industry"; the Indians, if em- 
ployed by them, must be treated with justice. 

As the cause Las Casas pleaded grew in favor 
with the rulers of Spain, the hatred of his ene- 
mies became greater, and no means were left un- 
tried to work his ruin. He returned to America 
as "L'niversal Procurator and Protector of the 
Indians" ; but opposition was strong and contin- 
uous. 

At len.gth Las Casas made a second voyage to 
Spain, whither Charles had brought his own offi- 
cers of court and state. His chancellor was a 
wise old Dutchman, and to him Las Casas first 
presented himself, with the result that Charles 
was led to appoint the chancellor and Las Casas 
to draft laws for the government of the Indies, 
such laws to do justice alike to white men and to 
natives. 

A second time was Las Casas victorious; a sec- 
ond time a great gain was made ; but yet the end 
was not attained. When the Spanish settlers com- 
plained that if they were obliged to free the In- 
dians they could not work the mines and planta- 
tions. Las Casas recommended that each one then 
owning Indian slaves be permitted to bring from 
Spain a limited number of negro slaves, because 
the negroes already knew the Spaniards, and also 
because they could endure more toil and tropical 
heat than could the Indians. Before this time 
negroes were at work in mines and on farms in 
some of the American islands. 

In the history of the West Indies written by 
Las Casas, he blames himself for making this 
suggestion regarding the importation of negroes. 
'T was thoughtless," he says, "in not realizing 
that slavery of negroes is as unjust as slavery of 
Indians." 



298 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



Las Casas and the cause he espoused lost a true 
friend when Charles V.'s Dutch chancellor died, 
for there were still left to be reckoned with the 
greedy gold-seekers. Las Casas had helpers, but 
he especially needed the influence of men near the 
throne. He prayed and planned, talked and lis- 
tened. The gold-god was a power he must con- 
quer in order to save and convert the Indians and 
bring them to the true God. His next plan— often 
obstructed by his enemies — was to organize bands 
of white-robed crusaders, laymen who would 
work with the Dominicans and Franciscans for 
the conversion of the Indians. But he wanted a 
certain territory in Spanish America assigned to 
the crusaders, within which no white-faced wor- 
shipers of the gold-god should be allowed to enter. 
The original rules for the colonization and gov- 
ernment of this exempt territory are still in ex- 
istence. Translations of them ha^-e been made 
into many languages. The contract made by 
Charles— now ruler of one half of Europe and of 
all that was then known of America — with the 
poor American priest was signed with all due 
formality by the Emperor, in his own handwrit- 
ing, and by Las Casas, on the 19th day of J\Lay, 
1520, in the city of Corunna. 

Las Casas had found difficult}- in obtaining the 
imperial signature because there were so many 
surrounding the Emperor who were interested in 
thwarting his plans regarding the American In- 
dians. ' After receiving this authority something 
was accomplished, but there was still much to be 
done. In the vear 1521, Las Casas entered the 
Dominican Order. He made his novitiate, and 
again the world knew that he had not forgotten 
the Indians. Hernando Cortes, by his treatment 
of the natives, led Las Casas to return again to 
Spain. Later he imdertook another voyage across 
the Atlantic in behalf of the Peruvian Indians. 
In 1543 he was appointed Bishop of Cuzco, Peru, 
but he declined the honor and the appointment 
was withdrawn. A year later he was made Bishop 
of Chiapa, Mexico. In 1547 he once more crossed 
the Atlantic in the interest of the Indians. He 
never again came to America, but the slavehold- 
ers in the New World feared him even more 
when he was in Spain than when he was here. 
The good seed sown by this first American priest 
has continued to bear fruit. He died in Madrid 
in the year 1566. 

JEAX DE BREBEUF, ^lURDERED 
BY THE INDIANS 

Among the names of men and women who have 
given their lives for the sake of religion in Amer- 
ica, none stands for more zealous labor for God 



and humanity than that of Jean de Brebeuf, who 
was born at Bayeux, Erance, March 25, 1593. At 
twenty-four he went to Rouen, and asked admis- 
sion to the Jesuit novitiate. (It is worthy of note 
that Rouen has given America more than one 
missionary and martyr : Daniel, Jogues, Raym- 
bault, and others represent her as witnesses to 
the faith on this continent.) 

Erom his first appearance in Rouen Brebeuf 
showed himself a strong character, whose strength 
was clothed with humility. Such was he from 
young manhood in Erance to martyrdom in 
America. 

As a college boy he did not always stand first 
in his studies, and sometimes he was censured for 
not passing good examinations. Of him perhaps 
it might be said, as some one has said concerning 
an American who sought to serve human welfare, 
that he would leave a Greek accent slanting the 
wrong way wdiile he righted a falling man. 

Brebeuf was ordained a priest about 1621. On 
April 24, 1625, with three other Jesuits (one a lay 
brother), he sailed for America to work for the 
salvation of souls. They arrived in Quebec on 
June 19. Einding the hostility of the Hurons 
too intense, Brebeuf,. on October 25, started on a 
mission among the Algoncjuins. The hard life he 
had to live; the filth of the tepees; the wretched 
food he had to eat; the long journeys he made; ■ 
the cold he suffered — all these things are sad to 
think of. But running through the hours and 
days was ever his prayer, "All for Jesus !" Noth- 
ing of earth could tempt such a man to live the 
life he endured that winter. 

The savages mocked him for his awkwardness 
in doing things in which they were skilled. At 
first he could not speak a word of their language, 
and for that they scoffed at him. But on this trip 
he mastered their tongue and compiled an Algon- 
quin grammar and dictionary. A savage will be 
made less savage by associating with a saint, 
and the worthier Algonquin companions of that 
first winter never forgot his patience and en- 
durance. 

The summer brought him an opportunity to 
work with the Hurons. In company with others 
he began life among them. After a few months 
we find him alone with the Indians in the vicinity 
of Lake Huron. He lost no opportunity of doing 
acts of kindness. He baptized the dying children, 
and to all who would listen to him he told over 
and over again, in his most persuasive way, the 
story of Jesus. He wrote or translated into 
ITuron a catechism which is still in existence. 

Owing to political troubles the English drove 
the French, missionaries included, from Quebec 
_and its vicinity; and early in 1630 Brebeuf was 



CHRISTIAN HEROKS AND TEACHERS 



299 



again at Rouen, France. Tliis same \ear lie met 
Isaac logues, who hai.1 returne'l Ironi Anicriea 
for a sliort tinic. 

In 1(133 Brebeuf iournexed liack to Canada to 
work for souls, especially fur his hrloN'eil saxages, 
the Hurons, whom he longed to bring to Idirisl; 
hut again circumstances kept him with (he Al- 
gonquins. He made several coincrsioiis, all re- 
markable. 

As usual, the Ilurons came down to Oueliee 
with their furs for the English traders. The 
Iroquois attacked them before thcx' reached their 
destination. The few that were left after the 
battle hastened to the missionaries to beg their 
protection, and Rrebeuf and se\"eral others went 
back with the Hurons. On the journey over Lake 
Huron the canoes were separated, evideiitl\- b\' 
design, and Brebeuf was the first wdiite man of 
the party to arrix'e at t/.eorgian Bay. They landed 
at an inlet wdiere there were no signs of an)- 
human life. Brebeuf had lived here with the 
Hurons some years before. Xnw wdiat was his 
surprise to see the Indians thrnw his few pack- 
ages on the shore and prepare to desert him ! 
He appealed to them not to leave him there alone, 
without food or shelter; Imt they departeil with- 
out giving him food even for a da)-. 

As thev rowed away, Brebeuf knelt and thanked 
God for protecting him thus far. anil earnestly- 
asked for guidance that he might do God's holy 
will. Next he put on his person the things he 
most valued, and hid the rest; then he started out 
to investigate his surroundings. He went t..) the 
place inland w-here he had built a chapel, and 
what w-as his joy to find it still there. Going i-,n 
farther, his joy increased as he saw a village, and 
soon he heard shouts of welcome. He w-ris among 
Indians with whom he labored w-hen he first 
joined the Hurons. and all seemed glail to sec 
him. 

The first Iroquois baptized a Christian was a 
Seneca chief upon whose head Brebeuf poured 
the water of baptism in the year 1636. He, with 
other fathers wdio had joined him, laboreil faith- 
fully among the Hurons, serving them as nurses 
during the prevalence of a severe contagious dis- 
ease. One Indian iiad been under instruction for 
some time. The missionaries were not inclined 
to baptize him until they were convinced of his 
sincerity. At last it was decided that he sliould 
be baptized, anrl Trinity Sunday was the day se- 
lected for the rite. The poor little chapel looked 
gay with its lights and flowers, and the pictures 
which some of the fathers had brought with them 
from Europe. The children, to whom had been 
taught some simple hymns, "sang like little an- 
gels" as Brebeuf, after a short explanation of the 



saeranienl, poured upon the bowed head of the 
chief the writer of baptism, and g.-ive to this new 
t hristiaii the name of I'efer. ddiis l)aptisin of an 
adult lliirdn tocik pl.'ice in the 3-ear 1637, and he 
who had been a cannib.-d assisted in converting 
m;in\- others. 

Later, however, the Indians again became in- 
censed at the white men. At a council Brebeuf's 
eloquence did much to check their fury, but he 
s;iw that a massacre was near at hand, and he 
made all preparations possible to avert it. On 
< )ctober 2.^. lb37, he wrote his famous letter to 
his superior at Quebec, in w-liich he told that 
from all appearances his companions and himself 
were near to martyrdom. His letter is one to be 
read o\-er and over again. 

When the time came wdiich Brebeuf had an- 
ticipated, the Indians, according to their etiquette, 
made a feast at w-hich the palefaces w-ere to ap- 
pear. "Wdien the eating was over Brebeuf arose, 
and contrary to the methods of oratory of the 
Imlians, who told of their own brave deeds, he 
spoke to them of God and the Redeemer, of hea- 
ven and hell. No signs of approval were mani- 
fest, but for some reason the martyrdom was 
ileferrcd. 

The )'car following several conversions were 
made, hut Peter, the Christian Iroquois, was tor- 
tureil and put lo death. 

On November 2, 1640, Brebeuf and two young 
men from the mission started for the country of 
the Neutrals, a nation w-hom they had not visited. 
The Hurons had sent messengers in advance and 
described Fjrebeuf and his companions as sor- 
cerers who would put them all to death. The 
Indians determined to hold a council as to what 
to do with these dangerous men who had come 
into their land. Brebeuf tried to enter the coun- 
cil and talk to them; but they drove him out. 
From village to village he traveled with one of 
his companions. He faced death without a tremor 
when he saw an opportunity to speak of God. 
His courage w'on the admiration of even his sav- 
age enemies. At last, after four months of tor- 
ture in many fiM'ms, the missionaries determined 
to return to the Hurons; but when thev were 
about to start, a fierce blizzard arose and they 
entered a village wdiich they named St. William. 
Here a squaw gave them shelter and her chil- 
dren waited upon them as friends. Brebeuf and 
his companion were forced by the storm to re- 
main in this shelter twenty-five days. During 
those twenty-five days they actually wrote a book 
comparing the languages of the Hurons and 
Neutrals, receiving much assistance from the 
squaw who harbored them. 

Their companions who w-ere left in Huronia 



300 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



bec:an to become uneasy abont Brebeuf and his 
companion. Finally two Indian chiefs and two 
servants volunteered to go in search of them. 
They arrived at St. William just as the blizzard 
\yas abating, and all began the return journey. 
There was much suffering from cold and acci- 
dents. Brebeuf fell on the ice and broke his 
collar-bone, and other causes made him almost 
helpless. But there is a bravery in bearing pain 
silently that is greater than the bravery of 
doing deeds of daring that make the world shout 
praises. 

Some years afterward Brebeuf was working at 
the Huron village which the fathers called St. 
Louis. On the morning of March i6, 1649, the 
village of St. Ignatius II. was attacked by over 
a thousand Iroquois. After the savages had 
butchered or burned all the inhabitants they went 
to St. Louis. Most of the men were away on 
hunting expeditions, leaving but a weak force 
left to defend the place. 

The Iroquois, always brutal, seemed more in- 
human than ever. Brebeuf and Gabriel Lalemant, 
his companion, hastened from place to place, bap- 
tizing those who had been receiving instruction, 
absolving the Christians, and encouraging all to 
think of God and heaven. As soon as the attack- 
ing savages saw the missionaries, they fell upon 
them with fiendish glee. They tore off their 
clothing, but did not at once put them to death. 
After destroying the village and butchering nearly 
all of the inhabitants, they dragged the two whom 
they considered leaders to the village of St. 
Ignatius II. Brebeuf and Lalemant, shivering 
with cold, entered the gate of the village through 
lines of infuriated savages, who struck them with 
clubs and knives. They were bound to stakes, 
and the savages began to prepare the fire. Bre- 
beuf said aloud to the Christian Hurons : "Do not 
falter. Your torments will not be for long, but 
your glory will be for everlasting !'' "Echon," 
they called out to him, "fear not for us; our 
thoughts wdll be in heaven while our bodies are 
suft'ering. Pray for us to the Master of life 
that he may have mercy on us." ("Echon" was a 
name the Indians had given to him almost from 
the first. It means "The man who drags the 
leads.") 

How they tortured him ! They struck him with 
knives, they burned him with brands, they stuck 
hot prongs into him, cut off parts of his body, 
roasted the flesh, and ate it before his eyes. His 
voice, full of the love of God, was heard above 
the savage din encouraging his converts to be 
faithful. Pen cannot describe the fiendishness of 
the monsters who danced around him. They 
seemed determined to make every inch of his 



body share in the death-agony. But not a moan 
escaped his lips, not a frown appeared on the face 
of the large, strong man. Only tender words and 
looks of encouragement to his dusky children, 
telling them of the glories of heaven and how 
God loved them. Three hours passed, and his 
spirit was released by the stroke of a savage who 
clove his head with a tomahawk. So ended the 
life of a Christian hero than whom none ever 
more faithfully served the Master whose name he 
lived and died to make known to people that dwelt 
in darkness. 

ISAAC JOGUES, A HERO AND 
A MARTYR 

Some men show great heroism by deeds of daring 
and courage, others by bravely and uncomplain- 
ingly bearing suft'erings. 

Nearly three hundred years ago a little boy 
named Isaac Jogues lived in Orleans, France. In 
his youth he decided to give his life to the service 
of God ; and the work he chose to do was to go 
into some heathen land and preach the Gospel of 
Jesus. 

He was young when he first heard the story of 
the strange people who lived near a large river in 
that New AVorld across the great waters. The 
stories of what is now known as America were 
then more wonderful to the children of Europe 
than any fairy story you have ever heard. 

"I will go to them," said the young boy; "I 
will teach them about the God who created them, 
and the dear Jesus who suffered death in order 
that souls might be saved." 

Would you like to know how he prepared for 
the work of instructing savages ? ITe entered 
one of the best schools in France, and he became 
a member of the Society of Jesus, and lived 
among those men whose motto was "All for the 
greater glory of God." 

In 1636 he landed in Quebec. His first letter 
from his new field of labor, written to his be- 
loved mother, is still in existence. In this letter 
he told her of the strange sights he had seen— 
of the dark-skinned people, who came to look 
upon him as if he were a curiosity, the great river 
(St. Lawrence) which, he was told, brought to 
the ocean the waters of mighty inland seas. But 
the dearest message he sent to his loving mother 
in the Old World was, that on the day he had 
celebrated his first mass in the New World he 
felt "as if it were Christmas Day" for him; "for 
now," he said, "I shall begin my missionary 
work in earnest ; I am born again to a new life 
in God." 

His work took him up the St. Lawrence into 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



the country of the Iluroiis. Fatig-uc, hunger, an.l 
cold were often his close companions. Man\' i 
cruel Mow he sulTereil fr(Tni those whnni lie had 
come to s.n-e. 

The first white men who stood upon the sliores 
of Lake Superior were Jogues and (larnier. men 
who had heen companions in schoid in iM-ancc, 
and who now were heroic missionaries among 
the savages. The Algonipiins and the (Mihwavs 
were touched b\' the tender stiir\- of Jesus Ciirist, 
and some of them hecame Christians. 

Togues labored near the (."ireat Lakes for five 
years, then returned, with a dying comrade, to 
Quebec. But his sta_\' among people of his own 
race was not long; soon he was journe\in.g Ijack 
to the savages he had left. Two la\"men were 
now his companions, Rene fdoupil and William 
Couture, also several Huron converts. 

At the place now called Three Rivers the Mo- 
hawks attacked the party; Jogues, t ioupil, and 
some others were captured and taken to (Jsser- 
nenon I now Auriesville, Xew Yijrk). They were 
tortured for the amusement of the sawages, and 
as slaves were made to carry heav\- burdens for 
the convenience of the chiefs. The Idoiid from 
feet cracked by exposure to cold, and from 
wounds made bv scourges on the body, often 
crimsoned the snow and the ice-locked rivers of 
the Mohawk \'alley. Goupil was killed because 
he was detected baptizing a sick child ; but Jogues 
lived on in that land wdiere war-whoops instead 
of hymns and prayers were heard. When bands 
of ]\Iohawks came from other tribes, they were 
entertained by seeing how bravely Jogues could 
bear tortures. He was beaten with clubs, lashed 
with thongs, pierced wdth arrows, liut he remem- 
bered the Calvary journey and that death for 
souls, and he bore all in patience. 

He baptized dving children, and some who were 
attracted by pity came to believe when he told 
them the story of Jesus. The sufferings he en- 
dured were all forgotten when eyen one soul 
was brought to God. The records, still in ex- 
istence, show that among the Moha\\ks he bap- 
tized as Christians seventy persons ; and no doubt 
he sowed in many hearts the seed that after- 
ward blossomed into faith. 

Outsiders began to hear of this heroic wdiite 
man who was being tortured b_\' the Mohawks. 
Some Christian Indians in wdiat is now the State 
of Maine tried to purchase him from his captors. 
The Dutch settlers of New Amsterdam (now 
New York city) and Fort Orange (Albany) were 
told the sad story by some traders. The wdiitc 
people tried to ransom him, but the Mobawd<s 
refused to give him up. Governor Kieft of New 
A.msterdam sent an order to the commandant at 



301 

hurt ( )rangc to rescue Jogues without delay, 
lint there was ilelay — months elapsed before 
J"gucs was free and permitted to go to New 
Amsterdam. The wdnte ijeople of that settlement 
docked around him and caressed his maimed 
hanils and his scarred face. One young man fell 
at his feet and kissed the poor hands that bore 
marks of the knife and the teeth oi savages. 
"Are }-ou a Catholic?" asked Father Jogues. 
"No,' replied the \"oung m;in. "I am a Lutheran, 
but I See in y<m one who has suffered for my 
Master." 

After nian\- mishaps Jogues arrived at the Col- 
lege of I'.emics, ITauce. Wdiat a welcome was 
given to him ! His own and strangers vied with 
each other in showing him honor. Anne of Aus- 
tria, then Regent nf France, was second to none 
in showing her appreciation of his heroic life. 

Surely he had "fought the good fight" and 
might rest at home the remainder of his life on 
earth. But no: as sdou as he regained strength 
he asked to be sent back to the Mohawks. After 
much entreat}- his request was granted, and in 
1644 be again landed in Quebec; but it was nearly 
two }-ears before he returned to Ossernenon. The 
old antagonism against the wdiites wdio came with 
the message of the cross still existed, although in 
the tribe Jogues had many friends. Some pleaded 
for his life; others, as at Jerusalem long ago, 
charged him with sorcery and treason. The 
W'cilf and the Tortoise families were bis friends, 
but the I'.ear famil\- wciuld not listen to argu- 
ments rif |)eace. 

On the iNth of October, 1646, the Bear family 
iiR'ited Jogues to a feast. To refuse was to in- 
cur their wrath and punishment by death; to 
accept was, as it prfived, to do as the Master did 
of old — receive the kiss of the traitor and bear 
feir the faith's sake the awTul consequence. 
Wounded as before by their cruel treatment, 
Jogues followed the Indian wdio had been sent to 
accompany him to the feast. As he entered the 
low door of the lodge to wdiicli he had been in- 
vited Jo.gues was struck down by a tomahawk in 
the hands of a savage wdio sprang from the dark- 
ness and dealt the fatal blow. The head of the 
mart\-red missionary was severed and set on a 
stake for all to see. Flis body was thrown into 
the Mohawd^. 

William In.graham Kip, Protestant Episcopal 
Bishop of California, said of this sufferer's death: 
".So died one of that glorious band that had 
shown greater devotion in the cause of Christi- 
anity than has ever lieen seen since the time of 
the apostles ; men wdiose lives and sufferings re- 
veal a story more touching and pathetic than 
anything in the records of our country." 



302 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



JACQUES MARQUETTE, MISSIONARY 
AND ENPLORER 

Tourists in France should visit tlie old fortified 
city of Laon, about ninety miles northeast of 
Paris. The story of Laon is full of anecdotes of 
brave deeds by men and women who left happy 
homes to go among savages to work for God, and 
by warriors who fought battles for their coun- 
try's freedom. So many of the holy men edu- 
cated in the schools of Laon have done much for 
the advancement of the kingdom of God, that the 
name of the city is dear to many in other coun- 
tries as well as in America. 

America, however, has a deep interest in the 
old Marquette family of Laon, especially those of 
the branch of the family whose history begins in 
the twelfth century. The story of their heroic 
deeds is long and interesting, but Americans 
know most of Jacques [Marquette, born at Laon, 
June I, 1637. We find him in 1654 a novice in 
the Society of Jesus. He went through the pre- 
scribed course and became a professor in one of 
the colleges ; but while he loved study and teach- 
ing, he longed to go and teach the Gospel of sal- 
vation to savages. Many of his brothers in re- 
ligion had gone across the ocean and had offered 
their lives for God's service in the New World. 

In 1666 IMarquette began his labors as a mis- 
sionary to the Indians of Canada. He was warmly 
received by his brethren on his arrival at Quebec. 
Here he remained about twenty days before being 
sent to Three Rivers to study the Indian lan- 
guages. During his stay at this place he pre- 
pared himself for the tasks that lay before him. 

In April, 1668, a company of missionaries, in- 
cluding Father Marquette, were sent to ]\Ion- 
treal, whence they traveled to the country of the 
Ottawas. They did not long remain with that 
tribe. By way of the lakes and rivers thev jour- 
neyed westward until IMarquette found himself 
and a few companions in the village of the Ojib- 
ways at the waterfall now known as Sault Sainte 
Marie. Jesuit missionaries had already been 
there; Jogues and Raymbault had told the Ojib- 
ways the Gospel story. Father [Marquette found 
a welcome from a few that remembered the 
"black gowns" who had lived with them many 
years before: but he and his friends also found 
idolatry, persecution, and trials that seem bevond 
human endurance. Different nations lived near 
the Sault on account of the fishing advantages. 
Here the Jesuits had established a mission and 
built a chapel; but the sufferings they had to 
endure cannot be described. 

In 1669 Marquette was sent to La Pointe to 
take the place of Father Allouez, who had be- 



come somewhat discouraged. This was at that 
time the farthest western outpost of the Jesuit 
missions. 

yVt first the Hurons received Marquette kindly, 
and his work among them was fruitful. He bap- 
tized many at La Pointe and adjoining missions. 
While visiting tribes near the "Great Waters'' he 
met some of the Illinois, belonging to the Algon- 
quins. They told him that when they came to 
La Pointe they crossed a great river that flowed 
from nofth to south, and they knew not where it 
began nor where it ended. 

Before this time Marquette knew of the St. 
Lawrence and of the lakes connected with that 
mighty river, but the Illinois were the first to tell 
him anything about the vast stream we now know 
as the Mississippi. Marquette wondered where 
this river began and where it flowed into the 
ocean. Some of the Indians promised to make a 
canoe for him, and he determined to explore the 
river in order that the missionaries might have a 
new route whereby to visit other tribes. 

In 1645, when Marquette was eight years of 
age, a child was born at Quebec .whose name will 
be forever joined with his own. This was Louis 
Joliet. The boy loved study, and the Jesuits edu- 
cated him in their classes at Quebec. He also 
loved travel and discovery. He knew there was 
much to learn of the interior of this vast conti- 
nent, for every Indian with whom he talked gave 
him added information. 

When Marquette was at Michilimackinac 
(Mackinac), Joliet was sent by the Jesuits to 
join him. The two spent some time in prepara- 
tion — studying and making maps and learning all 
they could from the Indians, the fur-traders, 
and the voyageurs they met. 

IMay 17, 1673, is a day to be remembered in 
America. On that day Father Marquette, Louis 
Joliet, and five oarsmen left Michilimackinac in 
two bark canoes in search of the mighty river 
which, Marquette had become convinced, must 
flow nearly north and south— quite different from 
the direction of the St. Lawrence. Mass was 
celebrated, God's aid was humbly asked, and all 
the friends of God in heaven and on earth were 
entreated to assist in the new undertaking. 

Occasionally on the journey south on Lake 
Huron they found nations among whom were 
Christians, some converts of Marquette. They 
all tried to dissuade Marquette from going to that 
unknown river of which he had heard. They 
said people lived there who would cut off the in- 
truders' heads without any cause ; that huge mon- 
sters came up out of the water and devoured men 
and canoes ; that even demons rose from th^ 
streams and destroyed any who dared to invade 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



303 



their domain. Marquette tliankeil his advisers 
for their warnings, bnt said tliat lie and liis [larly 
must go on, tliat tliere were souls bcNOUil to 
whom they nuist bring the Gosjiel message. 

The memorable journey was made p.artlv by 
land and partly b}- water, the last part on the 
\\"isconsin Ri\-er. On June 17 the eanries glided 
from the W'iseonsin into the nnghtx' stream for 
which they had been Inoking. .\t last tbe\- had 
found the object of their search! ddieir fir>t act 
then was to kneel m prater, to thank (iuil for 
their safe delivery, anil to ask him to bless and 
guide them in the future. 

!Much they saw on their journev down the 
river— strange landscapes, vegetation, and ani- 
mals—but no human beings untd the\' arri\-ed at 
the first ^■illage of the Illinois Indians, all of 
whom treated them kindly. As they continued 
their journey the [Missouri River appeared to them 
a wonder, and the Ohio, with its mile-wide estu- 
ary and rapid current, was vet niiire astonishing. 

Farther south thc\' found Indians who had been 
visited by the Spaniards, and were told that it 
was only about ten davs' journey to the sea. The 
inhabitants of a village near the mouth of the 
St. Francis Ri\'er became friendly and albAvcl 
one of their number to go with the party as in- 
terpreter. 

\\'ith the tribe at the junction of the Arkansas 
and ^ilississippi, ]\Iarquette and Joliet remained 
up late and took ciiuncil with each other as to 
what thev should do. Thev had discovered that 
Spaniards, the enemies of the French, were south 
of them, and thc\' had learned that the great river 
was a direct watercourse to the sea. Ihey finally 
decided to return. 

The next dav thev started on tlieir journey 
north, and no change of route was made until 
they arrived at the Illinois River. Here they left 
the ^lississippi and journeyed up the Illinois, 
which flowed past many Indian villages. In all 
places on the journev IMarquette spoke to the peo- 
ple about Jesus Christ, and what he bad done for 
them and for all mankind, \\diat a wondrous 
story was that to tell to the savages of the wil- 
derness ! 

Four months from tlie time of lea\-ing the_\- re- 
turned to the St. Francis mission on the Fox 
River. Marquette's journal contains no account 
of their receptirm ; Ijut we know they were given 
a warm welcome. Seven men had left there 
healthy and strong; seven men returned ill and 
weary, but full of glowing accounts of the great 
waterway to the southern sea and the many souls 
to be converted to Christ. To the little bark 
chapel they all hastened. I\Iass was offered in 
the early dawn, and hymns of praise were sung. 



Marquette and his conqjanions had been trans- 
ferred to this mission, where he wrote the ac- 
count nf their labors auK.ing the surrounding In- 
dians. Mar(|uetle's majis and rcjiorts still exist. 
The original map is in St. Mar)-'s dillcge at Mon- 
treal. On Joliet's return td Quebec the canoe in 
which he was a passenger \\as upset at La Chine 
rapids, and aU bis \'aluable paiiers, intended for 
the French government, were lost; hence Mar- 
quette's report alone survi\'es. 

Marquette was broken down in health, but he 
was most anxious to return to the Illinois mis- 
sion. n(iwe\"er, he was unable to undergo the 
journe\' until a little over a \'ear had elapsed, 
wdien he again turned his face southward. The 
original record of this journe)' in the writin.g of 
Marquette is also preserved in St. IMary's Col- 
lege. Wdiiter was at hand when they started, and 
the exposure to the cold so affected Marquette 
that when the\' arri\-ed at the Chicago River he 
was obliged to re^t and a hut was built for him. 
Occasionalh" frieiidh- Indians visited him, and 
sometimes a trader. Tn e\'erv one he spoke, in 
his beautiful, simple wav, of God. The warm 
weather of spring seemed to revive him, and 
with three cumpaninns he resumed the journey 
to the Illinois villages. Wdien he reached the 
large \dllage nf the Illinois 'die was received as 
an angel from heaven." 

A general council was assembled and the mis- 
sionary had the longed-for opportunity of talking 
to them all about Jesus. Think of that last min- 
istratiiin of his on earth, the dusky faces around 
him, and the strange thoughts of the untutored 
people who listened to his voice! 

He knew the end was near. Two of his com- 
panions assisted him in returning to the mouth 
of the Chicago. They journe_\'ed up the western 
shore of Lake Huron, l.)ut IMarquette seemed to 
Hax only to pray and suffer. He talked with his 
companions of their own souls, and prayed again 
and again that they would all meet in liea\-eii. 

( )n Saturdav, iNla}- 18, 1675, with all manifesta- 
tions i")f jov on his face, wdth tb.e glad look of a 
child going home to meet his Father, jMarquette 
passed from this earth, like the heroic soldier he 
had been, to meet face to face his great Com- 
mander. The river at whose mouth he died is 
known as the iMarquette. He w"as buried wdiere 
he died, as he had directed: but in the following 
spring some Indians from La Poiiite took the 
bodv to the mission of St. Ignace. by the waters 
of Lake Huron, where his brethren received the 
remains and placed them in a vault in the middle 
of the church according to the custom of Chris- 
tians. 

In 1700 this little church was destroyed by fire, 



304 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



and for a time all traces of ]\Iarquette's relics 
were liist. In 1877 Father Edward Jacker dis- 
co-\-ered his remains, and retained aliont one- 
fourth of the relics in the church of St. Ignace, 
and the rest were given to the Jesuit College in 
Milwaukee. 

The State of Wisconsin has placed in the dome 
of the capitol at Washington a fine statue of 
Marquette; and in the city of Marquette, Michi- 
gan, stands in bronze another representation of 
his heroic figure. 



LOUIS HENNEPIN, WHO NAMED 
A FINE WATERFALL 

One of the principal streets in Minneapolis is 
called Hennepin. Naturally, one would ask the 
meaning of the name, why it was selected for 
this avenue in the beautiful city on the Missis- 
sippi. The name was given in honor of the first 
European to see the falls which are here such 
an attraction to the upper Mississippi — Louis 
Llennepin of the Order of St. Francis. He 
named the falls after a saint of that order, St. 
Anthony of Padua. 

Hennepin was a native of Ath, Belgium, and 
was born about 1640. Like many of his country- 
men, he was early filled with the missionary 
spirit, and longed to visit pagan lands in obedi- 
ence to the command, "Go and teach all nations." 

When quite young he entered the novitiate of 
that branch of the Franciscans known as Recol- 
lets, founded in 1500, and in due time he was 
ordained a priest. In 1675 he came to Quebec, 
and after a course of study there he was sent out 
on the missions to the Indians. The missionaries 
of those days, like the missionaries sent to-day to 
the interior of Africa or to Asia, had to learn 
how to make fires, cook their own food, attend 
to their own clothing, besides learning the lan- 
guage of the natives, their characteristics, and 
how, in a general way, to approach them and 
present to them a new. subject. 

As soon as he was prepared he was sent to the 
Indian mission at Fort Frontenac. Later some 
Catholics from his own country, living at what is 
now Albany, sent to the Recollet fathers for a 
priest who could talk in their own language. 
Father Hennepin was sent to the Dutch settle- 
ment, but on his journey he also visited the Five 
Nations and other Indians. In 1678 he had an 
opportunity to go to a new field of labor. The 
St. Lawrence River and the Great Lakes were, 
in the early days of our country, the westward 
pathwa}- of the missionary bearing the Gospel to 
souls in darkness. 



Father Hennepin had the advantage of travel- 
ing with the expedition of La Salle, who first 
visited the country around Niagara Falls. They 
arrived at the mouth of the Niagara River De- 
cember 6, 167S. What a grand sight was pre- 
sented to them ! Their first thoughts were of the 
Creator, as Father Hennepin chanted the Te Deum 
in thanksgiving. There is still near here a rock 
which bears the name of Hennepin. As they 
went up the banks of the river they could scarcely 
find words to express their astonishment. It 
seemed as if they never before had seen so grand 
a manifestation of God's power. Hennepin was 
the first to give to the world a description of this 
great waterfall. The first mass celebrated on the 
banks of the Niagara was offered up by him. 

As the little company passed the cataract and 
saw Lake Erie, they knew that large canoes 
would be necessary for a farther water journey. 
It took some time to construct a vessel of suffi- 
cient size; but on August 7, 1679, Father Henne- 
pin blessed the "Griffin," as the new vessel was 
called, and they began their voyage on Lake Erie. 
They journeyed through Lake Erie and up Lake 
Huron until they arrived at Michilimackinac, 
where they were given a warm welcome by the 
white men at La Pointe St. Ignace. 

Next they traveled south. When they arrived 
at Green Bay, La Salle sent the "Griffin", back to 
Niagara with a load of furs; but nothing more 
was ever heard either of the crew or the vessel. 
Those left skirted the shore of Lake Michigan in 
their small canoes, the party now consisting of 
three Recollet fathers and La Salle and ten voy- 
ageurs. In November they arrived at the mouth 
of the St. Joseph River, and here they erected a 
rude fort. Hennepm and the other fathers built 
of bark a small chapel, the first Catholic church 
in the Lower Peninsula of Michigan. The supe- 
rior of the Recollets in America had joined the 
party, for Hennepin's letters sent to him told of 
the many souls that had not been baptized. 

In December La Salle, who was the leader of 
the party, began the journey anew. They walked 
miles, carrying their canoes and baggage, until 
they reached the country of the Illinois Indians, 
and finally camped for a time at Fort Crevecceur, 
a little below the present Peoria. Again the 
fathers built a rude chapel, for there were in the 
vicinity a few French families, besides a number 
of Christians among the Illinois. Here they re- 
mained about two months. Then La Salle re- 
turned to Fort Frontenac, and Father Hennepin 
began a vovage toward the source of the JMissis- 
sippi. Until this time the river had never been 
explored above the mouth of the Wisconsin. 

Hennepin took with him two companions, and 



CHRIS'lIW IlKRdKS AND TKACHKRS 



305 



on Felirunry jq. i6So, besau a caiinc ]nnrncy 
north nn the Missis>i[iiii. ( hi \jinl ;,(> ihi.\' ar- 
ri\ed at the I'alls of St. Anthonw Alter restint;- 
here a short time tlie\' jniirne\eil nurth, luit a 
large party of Si'Uix timk tlieiii captixe and de- 
tained tliein for snnie inontlis, dnriiii;' whicli lime 
the nnssiiinarics hist no opportimil\- nf telHiii;". In 
an\- \vho wonld listen, the slor\- of the life and 
death of our I^ord Jesns. 

Daniel Gre)"Solon du Idiul, a French fiir-trader, 
aided Hennepin and his eumpaninns in escape. 
They then jouriie\"eil to li^reeii Haw parlK- li\- \va\' 
of the Wisconsin Ri\-er and partl\- b\' land, llere 
they heg"an to l;ih ir ainung the I'akotas, to wliom 
Father Hennepin was the first to fireaeh the ( los- 
pel. 

About l6fi-2 Hennepin returned to Quebec, anil 
soon he sailed for France. In 16S3 he published 
an account of his ]onrne\"S, which was translated 
into several languages and became \-erv ].iipular. 
Father Hennepin died in Utrecht, Holland, about 
the year 1706. 



A PIOXFFR 



.\MERICAN' ^ILSSIOX.VRY 
IX IXDI.V 



^L\xY earnest and self-sacrificing men and 
women of the various religious denominations in 
America ha^'e left home and country- to c;irr\- the 
Gospel thev belie\"ed to distant lands and to teach 
the wav of life trj trifies among whom the name 
of their ]\Iaster was unknown. Xot a few of 
these faithful souls deserxe to have the stories of 
their lives and deeds told here ; but we can rinl\- 
select now one name, and that the name of a m.an 
v>ho mav be taken to represent the S])irit anil the 
work of all the fellow-servants who lia\e like- 
wise given themselves with loyalty and zeal to 
the missionary cause. 

Adoniram Judson, of whom we will tell you 
something here, was born at Maiden, in iMassa- 
chusett^, in 17S8. He was the srm of a Congre- 
gational minister. When lie left college, hieing 
honorably graduated, he had no settled religious 
views, and he thought of writing for the stage. 
But we are told that the sudden death of a. class- 
mate "changed the whole course of his life and 
caused him to regard religion seriouslx." He 
entered a theological seminary, from which he 
was graduated in iSio, and from that time he 
devoted himself to the great work of his life. In 
connection with fellow-students he took steps that 



led til the formalimi i,f the American Board of 
I iiiiiniis.siiiiiers fur hArei.^n Missiniis, one of the 
great nii,ssiiiii;ir\- iiodicN nf the wcirld. 

In iSiJ ludsiin w.as ordained a Congregational 
niission.ary, and in lA-bruar_\-, with his wife, .\nn 
Hasseltiiie, whom he had just married, he sailed 
fur (Aalcutt.a, reaching there in June. C)nce in 
India, the Judsons decided to join the Baptists, 
and this led, in 1X14, to the formation of the 
.\iiierican Baptist ;Mi,^siiiiiar\- L'nion. So we see 
th.at alread\- this )"oung man had Iieeii influential 
m the creation of new forces for carr\ing on the 
Work of (.diri>tian missions. j\fter some difficul- 
ties in entering his chosen field, ludson settled in 
Rangoon, Liawer Burma, in 1S13. He and his 
wife, in a strange land, with no assurance of sup- 
|)ort, began to stud)- nati\-e languages. Soon the 
Baptist Union took the mission tlie\- liad begun 
under its care. In the course of five )-ears they 
gathered a smrdl church, and Judson began to 
preach to the peojde in their own tongue. In 
1S19 he bajitized tlie first convert to Christianity, 
whose name is given as Along Xau. 

Political troubles and war brought many hard- 
ships to the missionar_\- and his ile\-oted wife. At 
Ava, the capil.al of Burma, whither thev removed 
in i^-'4, Judson w.as arrested and cast into the 
death-prison, where many cruelties were' inflicted 
upon him. Here he was kept for nearly two 
}e;irs, 'diourl_\- exjiecting death." In February, 
1S26, he secured his release and went to .Vmherst, 
in Lower Burma, where his wife died in October, 
ha\-ing heroicalh' shared his sufferings and saved 
his life li\' caring for him in prisi.m. Soon after 
this he formed a church at Al.aulmain. In 1834 
lie married Airs. Sarah H.ill ijoanlman, widow of 
a fellow-missionar\-. She died in 1S43, and in 
the following year he married Fmily Chubbuck, 
who sur\ ived him four }-ears. 

Dr. Judson went nu nii^Monary tours all through 
India, anrl in his nearl\- fnrt}- }ears' labor con- 
verted thousands to the Christian faith. In 1850, 
wdien almost hopelessly ill, he was carried in a 
litter on board ship to seek the benefit of a vov- 
age. He sailed for his own country, but in a few 
davs died and w;is buried at sea. 

Bv translating the Bible into Burmese, writing 
a Burmese-English dictionary, and doing other 
valuable literary Avork, Dr. Judson enlarged the 
field of missionary activit\- which he and his 
wives — his faithful colleagues — had done so much 
to cultivate. 



306 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



GREAT HYMN-WRITERS 



What is a hymn ? The word itself comes to us 
from the Greek, in which language it was liyin- 
nos. and meant a song, generally a song of praise. 
And that is what a hymn is, or should be, to-day, 
a song of praise and thanksgiving. Hymns have 
done more than most men's words in carrying 
comfort and jov to the hearts of people in sick- 
ness and sorrow, in doubt, danger, and anxiety. 
Many lives have been saved in scenes of peril 
when some brave soul has raised a voice to sing 
some sweet, simple hymn. The others have lis- 
tened to the appeal and been comforted; they 
have gained confidence, and so been prevented 
from rushing into a panic in which they might all 
have perished. So the writers of hymns are very 
important people in the history of the world. 
Manv of them are more important than they 
dream. One of our grand old hymns — 

"Let us, with a ccladsome mind. 
Praise the Lord, for he is l<itid," 

was written by a boy ! Millions of people have 
sung it during the last three hundred years. Yet 
how many of us have thought it was the work of 
a boy? It was written by John Milton, the great 
poet, when he was only fifteen, studying at St. 
Paul's School, in London. 

This hvmn, though really old, seems almost 
3'oung compared with some hymns sung every 
Sundav in everv Christian land. The Jews sang 
hvmns before Christ was born, and we still sing 
hymns written in Greek or Latin by the saints. 
The hymn beginning "O Jesu, Lord of heavenly 
grace" was written by St. Ambrose, who lived his 
noble life fifteen centuries ago. A more famous 
hymn, "The day is past and over," is a translation 
from the Greek, in which it was written centuries 
ago bv St. Anatolius. That grand hymn "Chris- 
tian, dost thou see them?" was written far back 
in the ages by St. Andrew of Crete. We still 
sing three hymns by St. Bernard of Clairvaux, 
others by St. Gregory the Great, St. John Damas- 
cene, St. Joseph of the Studium, Francis Xavier, 
and many other holy men whose life-stories have 
come down to us through the ages. 

All hymn-books ought to print the names of the 
authors of the hymns. It is most interesting to 
know the name nf the writer of some sacred song 
that we love. We think of the days and the place 
in which he wrote, and we understand the spirit 
in which he lifted up his heart. Take, for in- 



stance, that stirring hymn "Safe home, safe home 
in port," with Sir Arthur Sullivan's fine tune. 
We feel, as we sing the hymn, that these are the 
words of a man who lived in stirring times, and 
we are right, for the words are a translation from 
the Greek of St. Joseph of the Studium, who 
lived wdien Christianity was still struggling 
against the evil powers of the Roman Empire. 

LUTHER'S HYMNS AND THEIR 
WONDERFUL INFLUENCE 

M.\RTIN Luther was a great modern hymn- 
maker. He understood that the love of music, 
which the Jews had shown in their religious ser- 
vices, was not dead in men. He knew that to 
praise God in song was a natural desire of man, 
and he wrote hymns and chose tunes that would 
appeal to the heart and mind — tunes that were 
not so dull and unmusical as to be difficult and 
unpleasant to sing, nor yet of a character that 
would render them unfitting for religious ser- 
vices. "A sure stronghold is our God" is one of 
his best-known hymns. 

The effect of Luther's hymns was marvelous. 
People wandered all over Europe singing them as 
they went. They were carried into the castle of 
the noble and into the cottage of the peasant. His 
hymns helped people even more, if that be possi- 
ble, than his brave teaching. They learned to 
realize that religion is a joyful thing in life, not 
a cause of gloom and fear. 

HYMNS OF JOHN WESLEY AND 
HIS BROTHER CHARLES 

There are hundreds of thousands of hymns in 
existence, printed in hundreds of different books, 
and millions of these books are sold every year. 

Vv'e owe a great debt for our hymns to the 
Wesley brothers. John Wesley, the great founder 
of the Methodist Church, wrote many hymns and 
translated many more ; but while John Wesley is 
famous for his preaching, it is Charles Wesley, 
his brother and disciple, who is remembered by 
his hymns. It is not always easy to say which 
were John's hymns and which were Charles's, 
but we know that Charles wrote about 6500 
hymns. No other man ever had such a record as 
that. Of course they are not all high-class poetry, 
but some of them are still among the noblest 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



307 



verses in the hymn-book. Take such c.f them as 
these: "Christ, whose glory fills the skies"; "Lo, 
he comes w'nh clouds descending-"; "H;irk, (he 
herald angels sing"; "The strife is o'er"; "lesus, 
lover of my soul"; "Lo\-e divine" — all the Chris- 
tian world sings these. Charles was a great mis- 
sioner, second onl\- to his brother. He gave all 
his life to religious works, and refused a great 
fortune because he did not '.hink it right that the 
lady w!io proposed to lea\-e it to him should for- 
get her own family. He was born ni 1707, and 
died when he was eight\'-one. 



dr. watts and other english 
hy:mx-writers 

In most hynm-boijks there are at least a dozen 
hymns by Dr. Isaac A\"atts. ?\lanv more nught be 
included, and some others, not all so good, left 
out. He wrote over 500 hvnuis, among them 
such treasures as "AAdien I survev the wtmdrous 
cross"; "Our God, our help in ages past"; "There 
is a land of pure delight"; "lesus shall reign 
where'er the sun." Watts was the son of a 
Southampton schoolmaster, and got his gift for 
poetry from his father. He became a tutor when 
he grew up, and then a minister, and received the 
degree of doctor of divinit\' from a Scottish uni- 
versity. He was taken ill when thirtv-eight vears 
old, and went fijr a rest to the Ikjuic of Sir 
Thomas Abnev at Theobalds, which he never left 
till he died, thirtv-six \'ears later. 

A more recent writer of favorite hymns was 
Bishop William Walsham How, whu was lnjrn 
in 1823 and died at the age of sevent_\--four. 
Among favorites from his pen are "Summer suns 
are glowing," "We gi\x- thee but thine own," and 
'A\'ho is this so weak and helpless?" It is natu- 
ral to find preachers among the li_\-mn-writers, 
but the result is that some of the hvmns they 
write are not sung bv all congregations. 

Christian people do not all believe quite the 
same things, and as some hymns express views of 
only one Church, such hymns are sung only in 
that Church. John Mason Neale, a scholar and 
true poet, wrote some of the most beautiful 
hymns, but they are not generally sung. Still, 
some of them are for all the \\-orld, such as "O 
love, how deep, how broad"; "Eor thee, O dear, 
dear country" ; "Jerusalem the golden" ; and his 
translation from the Greek of "The day is past 
and over." Neale was a Church of England min- 
ister, very poor, luit noble-hearted, though so ex- 
treme in his views that he got into trouble with 
his bishop and had to give up his pulpit. 

The authors of some of the finest poetry in the 



English language are unknown, and we have 
many fine h\-nuis tii.at cannot be traced to their 
writers. We ha\'e sonic written as they first 
appeared in bhiglish ; we ha\-e some from un- 
known (iernian and Italian authors, and nearly 
lilty irom unknown Latin authors. Even where 
the name of the writer is known, and his hymns 
are world-famous, somelimes no record of his 
life is preserved. In nearlv every good hymn- 
bdok are many of John Ellerton's hvmns, among 
them "Sa\-iour, again to thy dear name we raise," 
and the beautiful "The day thou gavest, Lord, is 
ended," yet not a word about his life is to be 
found in nianv of the great works which should 
tell us of such a man. 

On the other hand, we know rather too much 
about Xahum Tate, the author of the immortal 
hymn "AA'bile shepherds watched their flocks by 
night." lie li\-ed in an age when it was not con- 
sidered disgraceful to drink, and he was a drunk- 
ard. He was born the son of a Dublin clergy- 
man, and became Poet Laureate of England. It 
is strange that such a man should have taken to 
writing poetry on sacred subjects. Yet it is only 
bv his sacred writings that he is remembereil ! 
Perhaps it was his better nature that appeared in 
his h\-nms. He had a partner named X'icholas 
Bradv, and together thev produced a version 
(T the Psalms \\diich was long sung in many 
churches. 

A\'e find a brighter picture in the life of Bishop 
Reginald Heber, a more gifted poet than Tate, 
and author of "From (ireenland's icy mountains," 
"Hoh'. Lloly, H(dy," and "The Son of God goes 
fi.irth to war." Ileber was born in 1783. and after 
he had left Cambridge Lhiivcrsity he had before 
him llie chance of an easy life as a country 
clergvman. But he scorned such an existence. 
He preferred the perils and anxieties of mission 
work in India, and ended his days as Bishop of 
Calcutta, when only forty-three. 

Another hymn-writer who died when forty- 
three was Sarah Flower Adams, born in 1805. 
She gave to the world the lovely hymn "Nearer, 
my God, to thee." She was a beautiful woman, 
with a vivid imagination and fine powers as a 
writer. Once in her life she thought of going 
upon the stage, but she gave herself to other 
things, and devoted her powers to literature and 
works of religion. Another of the best of our 
hymns, "Our blest Redeemer ere he breathed," 
was written by a woman, Harriet Auber. That 
was in 1823, since when it has been translated 
into every language belonging to Christian peo- 
ples. 

Two other favorites that have rung through 
the world, "There is a green hill far away" and 



308 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



"Once in roval David's city," are the work of a 
woman's heart and brain — !\Irs. Cecil Frances 
Alexander, who was born in iSiS, and married, 
when fortv-two, (he Archbishop of Armagh. She 
died in i?q5. Frances Ridley Havergal, like 
Bishop Heber and Mrs. Adams, wrote many 
hymns which will long l)e sung; the most famous 
are "Thy life was given for me" and "Take my 
life and let it lie." She had musical talent, and 
studied for sonic years in Germany, where she 
thought of making music, instead of writing, her 
chief ami in life. She was torn at Astley rec- 
tory, Worcestershire, in 1S36, and died in 1895- 

For another of the most famous hymns, "Just as 
I am, without one plea," we owe thanks to Char- 
lotte Elliott, a member of a clever family, who 
was born in 17S9. As a young woman she gained 
some fame by writing comic verses, but then 
came an illness and serious thoughts. Afterward 
she gave all her talent to writing beautiful verses 
on religious subjects, and her works did great 
good. 

Every one who reads in history the trial of the 
seven bishops, the brave men who refused to 
sacrifice their religious beliefs upon the order of 
a king, will sing with greater pleasure the fine 
old hymns "Awake, my soul, and with the sun," 
and "Glory to thee, my God, this night," when 
they remember that the writer of them was Wil- 
liam Ken, the famous bishop, who formed one of 
the valiant seven. 

Ken had the advantage of studying the works 
of George Flerbert, who wrote some of the finest 
religious poems in existence. He was born in 
1593 and died at the age of forty. As a brother 
of Lord Herbert he hoped to win court favor. 
Luckily he did not, but gave himself up to 
an earnest ministry in the Church, and to poetry. 
It is surprising that more of his hymns do not 
appear in the h^-inn-books. He died four years 
before Bishop Ken was born. 

Many famous names appear among the hymns 
we may call modern. William Cowper, the poet, 
wrote "God moves in a mysterious way" and 
"Hark, my soul, it is the Lord." Sir Robert 
Grant, who was a great scholar, a governor of 
Bombay, and for }'ears a member of Parliament, 
wrote "O worship the King." 

Sir John Bowring wrote "In the cross of Christ 
I glory." Bowring's life-story would make a 
good book. Fle was one of the most wonderful 
linguists that ever lived. He could speak a hun- 
dred languages, and read twice as many. He 
translated into English all the foreign songs and 
poems he could finrl. He traveled far and wide. 
He wanted to change tlie awkward money s\'stem 
of England into a simple one; and the two-shil- 



Hng piece remains to-day to remind people of the 
work that he began. He invented the florin, and 
it remains one of England's most convenient coins. 

The memory of James Drummond Burns, a 
Free Church minister, lives in the beautiful 
"Hushed was the evening hymn." He was a 
Scotsman, born in 1823, and he lived for some 
years in Madeira, and afterward in London. 
"Rock of Ages" serves to remind us of Augustus 
Montague Toplady, a clergyman who died in 
1778; and the beautiful prayer for those in peril 
on the sea, "Eternal Father, strong to save," 
makes the name of William Whiting dear to all 
who know it. 

\'ery few men receive such affectionate trib- 
utes as are paid to Henry Francis Lyte, an Eng- 
lish clergyman, who has lain in his tomb at Nice 
since 1847. 

y\mong the hymns that Lyte wrote is "Abide 
with me." He wrote it on the night that he 
preached his last sermon, thinking, not of that 
one night's repose, but of his eternal rest. Now 
we sing it at the close of evening service in 
church and chapel all over the world. Thousands 
of people have traveled to Nice as pilgrims to the 
grave of the man who wrote this hymn. 

One of the hymns with a history is that most 
beautiful one "Lead, kindly Light." It was writ- 
ten by John Henry Newman while he was on the 
sea. He was a brilliant man in the Church of 
England, greatly beloved and admired for his 
beautiful character and his great gifts. But doubt 
came upon him, and it was while he doubted that 
he wrote this hymn. Afterward he left the Protes- 
tant Church, and became, as a Roman Catholic, 
Cardinal Newman. At Oxford University, at the 
same time as Newman, was another gifted scholar 
and poet, John Keble, the author of "Sun of my 
soul," a hymn almost as famous as Newman's. 
Keble College, Oxford, is named after him. 

In the same way the hymn "All hail the power of 
Jesus' name'' keeps fresh the memory of Edward 
Perronet, though he has been dead much more 
than a century. He was a friend of the Wesleys, 
and worked with them for a time. 

Two very different hymns have been written 
by Sabine Baring-Gould. One is "Onward, Chris- 
tian soldiers," a battle-hymn with a warlike spirit 
which many people do not like; the other is "Now 
the day is over," a peaceful little lullaby hymn 
which children sing at the end of the day's play. 

MOODY AND SANKEY AND THEIR 
FAMOUS HYMN-BOOK 

The Moody and Sankey hymns are sung by 
millions of people all over the world. The book 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



309 



is not made np of hymns by the two niissioners. 
Sankey wrote the words of a few, and composed 
the music of man\-, but tlie bull< of the Innms are 
bv other autliors and coniposers. 

Thev were two reniarl<able men. D\vi£;iu l.\man 
i\Ioody was born in XorthlieKl. ^lass., in 1837, and 
from earlv bo\diood. until the age of se\'enteen, be 
labored on a farm. Then he became a clerk in a 
hoot-shop. While in C.hicago he spent nnich 
of his life in prenchins;' to young' men, and during 
the Civil A\ ar he acted as a missiouar\- in the 
armv. 

Wdien he was thirt\'-six he made the acquain- 
tance of Ira lXi\id Sanke\", another .\merican, 
three years )"ounger than i\biod\-. Sanke\- was 
the son of a banker, and in a better position than 
Moodv had been, but be was an earnest Christian 
worker, who, though he could not preach like 
Moody, was a good singer and nnisician. The 
two men entered together on a mission. The\' 
preached all over America, and visited England 
and Australia, and though their methods seemed 
strange, thev made a great impression and did 
great good bv their services. B-.th are nnw dead. 

Many of the h\inns in "Sankev" were written 
bv Frances J. Crosb\'. The bearer nf that name 
was a bra\'e and cheerful blind woman. Frances 
Jane Crosbv, an American woman, lost her sight 
as a baby, and never regained it. She received 
her education at a school for the blind, and de- 
voted her life to making others good and happy. 
She wrote over 3000 hvmns, of which one, "Safe in 
thearms of Tesus," has been sung alloverthe world. 



OTHER AIMERICAN HVMN-WRITERS 

1Iymi\-writii\i; in America began with the last 
centiir)'. ]!efore that time only metrical versions 
of the I'salms were in use. But as time went on, 
the Psalms fell more and more into the back- 
ground and hymns became prominent. The 
b_\-mns thus far used in America have been chiefly 
drawn from English sources; but the store of 
.\merican h_\-mns is by no means small, and is 
constantl\- increasing. 

.\mong h\-nms written by American authors 
we ma)- mention: "Lift your glad voices in tri- 
lunph (in high," b}- Henry Ware, junior; "Thou, 
whose unmeasured temple stands," by AA'illiam 
Cullen Bryant; "Slowdy, by thy hand unfurled," 
by William II. lutrness; "Our Friend, our Brother, 
and our Lord," b)- John G. Whittier ; "My 
faith looks up to thee," by Ray Palmer; "The 
morning light is breaking," by Samuel F. Smith, 
author of "M\- country, 'tis of thee" ; "O Love 
Divine, that stooped to share," by Oliver Wen- 
dell Holmes; "It came upon the midnight clear," 
by Edmund II. Sears; "Again, as evening'.? 
shadow falls," by Samuel Longfellow; "One 
sweetl)- solemn thought," liy Phoebe Cary ; 
"Father, in th_\- mysterious presence kneeling," by 
Samuel Johnson ; "Thou Crace Divine, encircling 
all," bv Eliza Scuddcr ; "Onl\- waiting, till the 
shadows," by Frances L. Mace; "Go bury thv 
sorrow," b\' Philip P. Bliss; "It singeth low in 
cverv heart," by John W. Chadwick ; "O little 
town of Bethlehem," by Phillips Brooks. 



JOHN WESLEY 

AX E\-AXGELIST IX TWO WORLDS 



There were two great British warriors in the 
eighteenth centur\-, and both belonged to the 
same familv. One was a nobleman, the Duke of 
Wellington ; the other a man of the peoi)le, plain 
John Wesley. We do not alwa_\-s remember that 
the "Iron Duke" and the great preacher were re- 
lated; but they were — Wellington coming from 
another branch of the old family from which 
Wesley sprang. Wellington fought with the 
sword; Wesley fought with Bible and pen. 

The preacher was sixty-six years older than 
the duke. They lived to be old men, Wesley 
dying in 1791 at the age of eight_\--seven, and 
Wellington passing away in 1852 when eighty- 
two. Wellington's fame is secured by every 
writer who deals with the period in which he 



lived. But Wesley's name hardly appears in the 
ordinary histories. He is passed over with scant 
concern ; he might never have lived, for all the 
importance wdiich many writers attach to his 
work. 

Yet the world is more and more realizing that 
Wesle)''s work was at least as important as that 
of the Duke of Wellington, A soldier can save 
us from the peril of hostile swords, but a soldier 
cannot prevent a nation from perishing when it 
is steeped in ignorance and crime and all forms 
of wickedness. Wesley ranged throughout the 
length and breadth of the kingdom, kindling the 
souls of men and women into life. He was not 
only a preacher, but an educator. 

He regarded it as a great sin that people should 



310 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



be dirt)', that they should be permitted to suffer 
from disease which could be cured or prevented; 
he regarded it as a crime that they should be per- 
mitted to live in foul dwellings. He fought pov- 
erty and drink ; he fought the misery of the poor 
and of the orphans and the widows. He taught 
the people lo know God, but he taught them also 
to know the good of this life. He regarded the 
whole world as his parish, but he also regarded 
the world as his school-room and his workshop; 
he toiled to have the people educated and made 
thrifty, to have them well housed, to have them 
equipped with the knowledge which should make 
them useful and valuable citizens. He taught 
them to be honest and cleanly, independent, fear- 
less, and skilful. His was in many respects a 
greater work than was that of Wellington, whose 
praises all the historians sound. 

Wesley was born at Epworth Rectory, Lincoln- 
shire, in June, 1703, his father being the rector 
of the parish. There were nineteen children, of 
whom fourteen were older than John, and four 
younger. Their father was a fine man, but their 
mother was something of a curiosity. She was a 
well-educated woman, versed in Latin and Greek; 
but though she had nineteen children, she never 
seemed quite to understand the whole duty of a 
mother. A ridiculous thing happened between 
her and her husband before John was born. 
James II. had been turned off the throne for try- 
ing to make the country Roman Catholic, and 
William of Orange had been made king. Now, 
although Mrs. Wesley was a Protestant, she never 
said "Amen" when her husband prayed for King 
William III. The preacher inquired why she did 
not say "Amen," and she said that she did not 
regard William III. as king. And the two stupid 
_ people quarreled and parted, and never saw each 
other again until after William III. died. It was 
after this quarrel was made up that John Wesley 
was born. 

Epworth was a wicked little place in those 
days, and the elder Wesley preached boldly 
against the misdoings of the people. The conse- 
quence was that many persons hated him, and 
twice they tried to set fire to his house. At the 
third attempt they succeeded. Husband and wife 
and children, who were all asleep, got out of the 
house, though some had their clothes scorched off 
them. Little John, who was onlv six at the time, 
was missing. He had been left asleep in the 
nursery, and in the terror and darkness of the 
night everybody had forgotten him. When his 
father tried to rush back into the house for him 
it w.as too late — the staircase had been burned 

I'.OWll. 

The child was awakened by the heat and smoke- 



and, finding that he could not get out by the burn- 
ing doorway, he made his way to the window. 
There his parents saw him, and prayed for his 
deliverance. There was no ladder to be had; but 
one man climbed upon another's shoulders, and, 
the house being low, he was able to reach the 
child, drag him through the window, and place 
him in safety on the ground. At that very mo- 
ment the blazing roof fell in. Had it fallen out- 
ward, the rescuers and the child would have been 
killed. 

The escape was a miraculous one. Little John's 
father, seeing the child safe, gathered his family 
about him, and, speaking to the people gathered 
round, said : "Come, neighbors, let us kneel down. 
Let us give thanks to God ! He has given me all 
mv children. Let the house go; with them I am 
rich enough." 

This incident had a great effect upon Mrs. Wes- 
lev, for she felt that her son John was marked 
out bv divine favor for some special work, seeing 
that he had been so wonderfully saved. She, 
therefore, trained him with special care, and edu- 
cated liim with perhaps more tenderness than she 
had shown toward her other children. But she 
did not waste tenderness on any of them. It was 
her boast that by judicious thrashings she taught 
all her nineteen children to "cry softly." 

But there must have been much good in this 
strange, stern woman, for the children who grew 
up all loved her. The effect of her training, how- 
ever, was evident in the impression that it left 
upon Wesley's mind ; for, like those of other 
great men, his ideas as to the education of chil- 
dren were in many respects highly foolish. He 
taught that they should not be allowed to cry, and 
that they should not be allowed to pJay. That 
was the result of the strange training he received 
from his mother. 

John was a serious, clever boy, and his father 
used to say of him: "Our Jack will never do any- 
thing unless he can give a reason for it." 

The boy was sent at an early age to Charter- 
house School. School management was different 
then from what it is to-day. The big boys used 
to steal a great part of the food of the small boys, 
so that John and those of his own age had for 
two ot three years onlv bread to eat, and not too 
much of that. In spite of that, however, he 
obeyed his father's instructions to run three times 
a day round the school playing-field, and this 
made him strong and healthy, badly as he was 
fed. At sixteen or seventeen, Wesley passed on 
to Oxford University, where two of his brothers 
— Samuel and Charles — were already studying. 
The two elder brothers and a friend or two were 
devout young fellows; and when John joined 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



311 



them he followed in their footsteps, and soon be- 
came their leader. They did everything b)- sys- 
tem and method. Some one in fnn called them 
"methodists," because of their methodical liabits, 
and later on these were to be Methoilists in a 
verv real sense, ^^'esley did \vell at (.)xford, and 
became a fellow of one of the Colleges, and in 
due time made a successful tutor. ?\Ieantime he 
had become curate to his father, and was tii have 
succeeded him at Epworth Rector\-. thuugh he 
did not wish to do so. \\"hen the elder \\"esle\' 
died, John had made up his mind, if he could, to 
succeed him: but he was not appointed. 

At Oxford Wesley had been in the habit of 
visiting the prisoners in the jail, of relieving the 
poor, and looking after the clothing and feeding 
of the needv, and especially of school children. 
^^'he^ his father died, and he was free to do as 
he liked, he came willinglv to America to be a 
missionary in Georgia. He stayed two years 
there, but his plain, blunt way of preaching was 
not a success, and he went back to England, dis- 
appointed, yet sure that his work had not been 
without good result. Soon after his return home, 
^^'esley began to preach in other places than 
churches. He preached in the open air, and in 
buildings which were not ordinarilv used for re- 
ligious services. He was followed by other men, 
and he selected people who were not clergymen 
to preach. Soon it was no uncommon thing for 
him to be refused permission to preach in 
churches. He went down to his father's old 
church, where he himself had been curate, and 
the curate who had succeeded him would not let 
him preach in the church. So A\"esley preached 
in the churchyard, standing on his father's tomb- 
stone. 

Thus began his long series of travels. He saiil, 
'The whole world is mv parish," and he acted as 
if it were. Year after year, winter and summer, 
he traveled about the gountrv, preaching, making 
converts, and doing good. He did not seek to get 
people who were attending church to come to 
him. There were at this time A'ast numbers of 
people who never went to church at all, who 
knew practically nothing about religion. How 
should they hear of reli.gion, when there was no 
one to teach them? There were scarcely any 
Sunday-schools where children could be taught, 
and very few people of the poorer classes went to 
ordinary schools. To a great extent, T'lreat Brit- 
ain was in reality a heathen country, though no 
one would have called it so, seeing the numbers 
of beautiful churches and cathedrals which it pos- 
sessed. Wesley then appealed to the poor, to the 
ignorant, to the workers, to the roughest class of 
people. It was not that he could not preach to 



the higher classes. \\'es]e\- was a great scholar, 
and a polished gentleman, with wit and humor as 
well as the fnrceful directness which makes the 
convincing preacher. Therefore, he could preach 
lo llie ver}- highest in the land just as well — in- 
deed, better — than he could preach to the poorest. 
-\n intellectual man alwa\s finds it hardest to ad- 
dress an ignorant audience, for he is always in 
fear of talking to his hearers in language which 
they will not understand. Xot all churches were 
closed against him, but many were, so he ad- 
dressed his congregations in the open country, in 
any house at ^vhich he might be staying, or in 
any hall or school or workshop that he could bor- 
rciw. 

ddicre never was such a campaign as Wesley 
carried out. iMenibers of Parliament, when they 
have fought an election which lasts two or three 
weeks, are frequentlv so fatigued and broken 
down that thev have to take a long rest. But 
Weslev's campaign lasted over forty years. It 
was harder than such a campai.gn ever could be 
again. It covered everv part of England, Scot- 
land, Wales, and Ireland, and, in his old age, a 
large slice of the Continent. He was preaching 
nearh' every da\', not once, but twice, thrice, even 
four times a da\-, and between sermons he was 
traveling. There were no railway's then, let us 
rememljcr. He made all his land journeys, al- 
most to the last, on horseback. From end to end 
of the land he went, not merely by the main 
roads, but b\' packhorse tracks, where they ex- 
isted; o\er moors and waste places, through 
mountain passes, and through fords and across 
ri\x-rs swollen by floods, in storm and tempest, in 
burning heat, through snow which might have 
daunted many an arctic traveler, tie preached in 
the cities and tiiwns, he preached in the little 
villages: in the fields, on the commons, in man- 
sions and cottages, before crowds who loved him, 
before bad and vicious and bigoted people, who 
would have killed him had they dared. No other 
man knew Great Britain as 'Wesley knew it. 

To-day, with all the railways, we could not fol- 
low in his footsteps. "We should have to leave 
the train, and go on foot along byways rough and 
bad, such as would tax the strength of the great- 
est athlete. It was a wonderful, dazzling cam- 
paign. Nothing liut downright illness could deter 
him. If he were laid low by cold or fever, he 
would be up and moving again, traveling long 
distances, and preaching by the way to congrega- 
tions great or small, long before the ordinary man 
would be even thinking of leaving his bed. Of 
course he had marvelous health : but it was greatly 
due to his own hard life, his contempt for luxury, 
that he enjoyed such health. Several times his 



312 



CHRISTIAN HEROES AND TEACHERS 



life was in danger from fever, from consump- 
tion, and from other ills, but his health}' out- 
door life, and the simple diet upon which he lived, 
always enabled him to shake off the effects with 
the least possible trouble. 

Ordinary injuries occasioned by accidents he 
scarcely regarded. Once he had a bad fall, but 
he thought nothing of his bruises, preaching as 
usual at the place to which he was going, as if 
nothing had happened. At another time he had a 
severely sprained ankle, but he kept his appoint- 
ment, and preached on his knees. 

The extent of his journeys remains a marvel 
even to this time, when we think less of travel 
than ever we did before. He traveled over 250,- 
000 miles; he crossed the Irish sea forty-two 
times ; he preached 40,000 sermons. He went 
several times to the Continent, in addition to his 
voyage to America ; and when he was eighty he 
carried out a great missionar}- tour in Holland, 
That is an extraordinary record for one man, hut 
it represents only a part of his work. 

He wrote a great number of books for the peo- 
ple. He was, as we have said, not merely a 
preacher, but a social reformer and teacher. His 
sermons were often homely discourses on affairs 
concerning the health and homes and daily lives 
of the people. He was not content with that, 
however. He wrote books on health and the treat- 
ment of disease. He wrote works on the gram- 
mar of the English, French, Latin, Greek, and 
Hebrew languages, all of which, as well as Ger- 
man, he mastered. 

tie wrote histories of various countries, and a 
history of the Church, and splendid books for 
schools, giving the choicest extracts from the old- 
time writers. He wrote a dictionary, and works 
on the Bible, and on philosophy; fifty volumes 
giving the cream of all the greatest religious 
writers of all times and nations. He published 
the lives and writings of the great English au- 
thors on religion; he published hjanns and hymn- 
tunes and other music ; he published his sermons 
and journals, and a magazine, which is still run- 
ning to-day. These many books made him, as he 
said, unexpectedly rich. They brought him £30,- 
000 ; but he gave away every farthing. There 
never was a man who had a more perfect idea of 
charity. He kept just sufficient to live on, and 
gave away all the rest as fast as it came to him. 

How did he manage to do so much work? Be- 
cause he was a methodist in all the private ways 
of life as in religion. He rose at four o'clock 
every morning for over fifty years. He would 
have his first religious service at five o'clock in 
the morning if arrangements had been made. If 



not, he would be in the saddle and on the road at 
that hour. He read an enormous number of books 
on various subjects. Books of poetry, philosophy, 
and history he read on horseback. How could he 
do such a thing? we may ask. He answers the 
question himself. He found that by letting the 
reins hang' on the horse's neck he could ride in 
safety. Provided that the horse were a good and 
sure-footed one, it was safer to give it its head in 
this way than to ride it with a tight rein, as so 
many riders did. In this way he mastered the 
contents of vast numbers of works. When he 
came to a stop, he had writing materials ready, 
and would set to work with his pen. Once he 
was held up at a ferry, so, instead of stamping 
about, wdiistling and shrieking for the boatmen, 
as too many men would, he sat quietly down, 
pulled out his paper, pen, and ink, and finished 
writing a tract upon which he was engaged. That 
was his way. His life was not without gaiety or 
jo)', but he never wasted time. He was methodi- 
cal in everything, Lmless time pressed, he would 
always visit the places of interest through which 
he traveled, wdiether they were historic mansions, 
or churches, or places of natural beauty. All that 
he saw, and did, and thought, he wrote down in 
his journals, which he afterward published. 

To read those journals is a treat in store for 
every bov and girl wdio wdll do it, for there is no 
better picture of the whole country of England, 
its people and their manners, in the eighteenth 
century, than this which Wesley wrote day by day 
throughout those long years. Much that he wrote 
in those journals did not see the light of day until 
ver)' recently. He left behind him a mass of 
writing in a sort of shorthand and a method of 
writing of his own invention. This was found a 
few 3'ears ago. It took its discoverer four years 
to master the secret of the cipher in which it was 
written. At last the task was completed, and the 
world knows more of John Wesley to-day than 
ever it knew before. The interest in his work 
and life grows, and will grow, for the seed that 
he sowed broadcast is still bearing a rich and 
abundant harvest. He went about doing good, 
not only good which he personally was able to 
effect, but he exposed abuses and injustice, and 
by his earnestness persuaded or shamed others 
into doing right. 

He left England a much better land than he 
found it, and though all his earliest disciples died 
before him, he had gathered about him, in the 
newer generation, such a body of earnest men of 
his own type of mind and character, that Metho- 
dism has become one of the great forces for good 
in the whole of Christendon). 



CV3 



SERMONS AND SEED-TIIOUCxHTS 
FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



[t] 



jES^^^^sa^^ 



FAITHFULNESS IN LITTLE THINGS 



' lie t!:.it i5 faithful i;i that which i; least i; faithful also 



-Lulu 



A YOUXf, friend, richly gifted, but who is tied bv 
inexorable necessity to an office-stooh has. com- 
plained to us that his life afforded' no outlet for 
the adequate exercise of his powers. 

His groan is a very commcin one. So many 
grumble about the monotony of life's dead level. 
which the great majority of us have to traverse. 
The upland paths, which give an ecstasy to tread 
in the bracing air and the expanding glory of the 
world, are for the few. For most of us it is the 
trivial round, the cominon ta?k. Each mc)rning 
the bell calls to the same routine of coimrionplace 
toil. Each hour brings the same programme of 
trifles. There seems no chance for doing any- 
thing heroic, which will be worth having li\'ed 
for, or will shed a light back on all past, and for- 
ward on all coming days. 

But there are two or three considerations 
which, if wrought into the heart, will tend to re- 
move much of this terrible depression. 



ALL LIFE IS PART OF A DIVIXE FLAX 

As a mother desires the best possible for her 
babes, bending over the cradle which each occu- 
pies in turn, so does God desire to do his best for 
us all. He hates nothing that he has made : but 
has a fair ideal for each, which he desires to 
accomplish in us with perfect love. But there is 
no way of transferring it to our actual experi- 
ence except by the touch of his Spirit within, and 
the education of our circumstances without. 

He has chosen the circumstances of our life, 
because they are the shortest path, if on!_\- we use 
them as we should to reach the goal on which he 
has set his heart. He might have chosen some 
other country— China, India, Italy, or Mexico. 
He might have cho':en some other age — that of 
the Flood, the Exodus, or of the early martyrs. 



He might have chosen some other lot — a roval 
court, a senate, a pulpit, or an author's desk. But 
since he chose this land, this age, and vour lot, 
whatever it ma\- be, we must believe that these 
presented the likeliest and swiftest v,-av of real- 
izing his purpose. 

If, dear brother, you could have reached vour 
truest manhood as an emperor or a reformer, as 
a milhijnaire or a martiT. vou would ha\-e been 
born into one of those positions: but since vou 
are onl_\- a serwant, a bank clerk, or an ordinary 
business man, \-ou will fiml right beside \0M the 
materials an 1 possibilities of a great life. 

If. dear sister, you could ha\-e attained to the 
loftiest de\'elopiuent of your nature \>\ being a 
rich man's wife, or a queen, \-ou wouM have 
foun'I )"ourself placed there; but since \o\\x lot is 
that of a milliner's assistant, factory hand, or 
toiling mother, you must believe that somewhere 
within }-our reach, if onl\- }-ou will search for 
thijm, you will discover the readiest conditions of 
a noble and useful life. 

'\A ho can wonder at the complaints of the aim- 
lessness, the ^■anit}■, the weariness of life? Peo- 
ple either have no plan, or the}- have got a wrong 
one. "Wliat's the fashion?" "A\'hat do others 
do?" "What's the correct thing?" How much 
better and wiser to believe tliat God has a perfect 
plan for each of us, and that he is unfolding it a 
bit at a time, by the events which he puts into our 
life each day ! 

Before Moses built the tabernacle, he saw the 
whole pattern of it in prophetic vision. In some 
secluded spot on Sinai's heights it stood before 
him, woven out of sunbeams: and he descended 
to the mountain-fdot to repeat it in actual cur- 
tains, gold, and wood. God does not show us the 
whole plan of our life at a hurst, but unfolds it to 
us bit by bit. Each day he gives us the oppor- 
tunity of weaving a curtain, carving a peg, fash- 



314 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



ioning the metal. We know not what we do. 
But at the end of our hfe the disjointed pieces will 
suddenh' come together, and we shall see the 
sj'nimetry and heauty of the divine thought. Then 
we shall he satisfied. In the meantime let us be- 
lieve that God's love and wisdom are doing the 
very best for us. In the morning ask dod to 
show you his plan for the day in the unfolding of 
its events, and to give you grace to do or liear all 
that he mav have prepared. In the midst of the 
day's engagements, often look up and say, 
"Father, is this in the plan?" At night bt still, 
and match your actual with God's ideal, confess- 
ing your sins and shortcomings, and asking that 
his will mav be more perfectly' done in }'ou, even 
as in heaven. 

OPPORTUNITIES FOR BUILDING 
NOBLE CHARACTER 

We are sent into this world to Iniild up character 
which will be blessed and useful in that great 
future for which we are being trained. There is 
a niche wdiich only we can fill, a crown which 
onl)' we can wear, music which only we can 
waken, service which only we can render. God 
knows what these are, and he is giving us oppor- 
tunities to prepare for them. Life is our school- 
house. Its rooms may be bare, but they are win- 
dowed with opportunities of becoming fit for our 
great inheritance. 

Knitting-needles are cheap and common enough, 
but on them may be wrought the fairest designs 
in the richest -wools. So the incidents of daily 
life may be commonplace in the extreme, but on 
them as the material foundation' we mav build the 
unseen but everlasting fabric of a noble and beau- 
tiful character. It docs not so much matter what 
we do, but the way in which \\ e do it matters 
greatljf. What we do may or may not Ii\'e : but 
the way in which we perform our common tasks 
becomes an indestructible part of our character, 
for better or worse, and forever. 

Suppose we meet the daily demands of life in a 
slovenly and careless spirit, caring only to escape 
blame, to earn our wage, or to preserve a decent 
average. Or suppose our one aim in life is to get 
mone)' for our own enjoyment. Is it not clear 
that the meanness of the motive will react on the 
\\Iiole character behind it? Will it not lie certain 
that the soul which is always bathed in such atmo- 
sphere, confronted with such ideals, will Ijccome 
slovenly, careless, and selfish? And when some 
great occasion arises it will call in vain for the 
high qualities of a nolde nature. 

Suppose, on the other hand, that we do the lit- 
tle duties of life faithfully, punctually, thought- 



fully, reverently— not for the praise of man, but 
for the sake of doing them as they ought to be 
done, and for the "Well done" of Christ — not for 
the payment we may receive, but because God has 
given us a little piece of work to do in his great 
world — not because we must, but because we 
choose — not as the slave of circumstances, but as 
Christ's freed ones — then far down beneath the 
surge of common life are laid the foundations of 
a character more beautiful and enduring than 
coral, which shall presently rear itself before the 
eyes of men and angels, and become an emerald 
islet, green with perennial beauty, and vocal with 
the songs of paradise. 

We ought therefore to be very careful how we 
fulfil the common tasks of daily life. We are 
making the character in which we have to spend 
eternity. We are either building into ourselves 
wood, ha)-, and stubble wdiich wall have to be 
burned out at great cost, or the gold, silver, and 
precious stones that shall be things of beauty and 
joy forever. 

THE GREAT DOING OF LITTLE THINGS 

Let it be granted that you are a person of ordi- 
nary ability. It may be that you wdll never be' 
removed into a wider sphere than the obscure one 
in wdiich you have been pining, like a wood-bird 
in its cage. Give up j'our useless regret, your 
bitter complaint, and begin to meet the call of 
trivial commonplace, with tenderness to each per- 
son you encounter ; wdth faith in God, as doing 
his best for you; with heroic courage and un- 
swerving fidelity; with patience, thoroughness, 
submission. 

Go on acting thus, week in and week out, year 
by )'ear, with no thought of human notice; de- 
termined always to be at j'our best ; eager only to 
pay out. wdthout stint, the gold of a noble, unsel- 
fish heart. And at the end of life, though you 
wist not that your face glistens, others will see 
you shining like the sun in your heavenly Father's 
kingdom. It will be discovered that you have 
unwittingly lived a great life, and you will be 
greeted on the threshold of heaven wdth the 
"\Vell done" of your Lord. 

Some wdio are sighing for a great life are un- 
consciously living it in the eye of God's angels. 
Those who forego marriage, that they may bring 
■ up and educate the younger children of their 
homes : those that deny themselves almost the 
necessities of life to add some coals of comfort to 
the meager fire at which the chill hands of age 
warm themselves; those wdio are not only them- 
selves pure amid temptation, but are centers of 
purity, shielding others; those who stand to their 



SERMONS AND SF.ED-THOUGHTS FOR LOYS AND GIRLS 



315 



post of duty though tho fires, as thcv crce|) near, 
are scorehing the skm and consunung the lieart ; 
those who meet tlie incessant demand nf munnln- 
nous tasks wnh gentleness, nnsehlshness, and the 
wealth of a strong", true heart — iliese, without 
knowmg it, are graduating iov the front ranks of 
heaven's nohihty. 

" GUiil liearts! ^^it]l(>ut reptoach vr l^lot. 
Who J.' [GlkI's] Work and know it uut." 

It is a greater thing to do little things well, 
than those wdiieh seem more imjiortant. Thev 
who daily handle matters wdnch hulk largely be- 
fore the eyes of their fellows are expected to act 
from great moti\-es. and to behave worthilv of 
their great and important prwition_s. The states- 
man is expected to he high-minded; the tdinstian 
lady to be virtuous; the minister to be earnest. 
There is no special creddt to an\' of these fcir 
being what they profess, and are expected to be. 

But surely, in God's sight, it is a much greater 
thing wdien the soul ccinquers ad\'erse circum- 
stances, and rises superior to the drift of its asso- 
ciations. To be high-minded, when A"our com- 
panions are mean and degraded; to lie chaste, 
when ease and wealth beckon vou to enter the 
gate of vice; to be devout or zealius, when no 
one expects it ; to do small things f rrmr great mo- 
tives—this is the loftiest attainment of the s^jul. 

It is a greater thing to do an unimportant thing 
from a great motive, for tdod. for truth, for 
others, than to do an important one; greater to 
suffer patiently each day a thrmsand stings, than 
die once as a martyr at the stake. And an ob- 
scure life really offers more opportunities for the 
nurture of the loftiest type of character, because 
it is less liable to be visited bv those meaner con- 
siderations of notorietv, or applause, or mone}'. 
which intrude themselves into mnre prominent 
positions, and scatter their deadlv taint. 



LITTLE THINGS GREATLY DONE HELP 
IN DOING GREAT THINGS 

We someiimes lav down the stor\--book or the 
history with a groan. We bad been reading of 
some sudden opportunit\' which came to a Grace 
Darling, reared in the obscuritv of a fisherman's 
home, or to a Florence Nightingale, nursing sick 
soldiers in hospital or camp. 

''Oh.'' we say, "if onlv such a chance would dip 
down into my life, and lift me nut of it I I'm 
weary, weary of this dull le\-el I" Ah I it is a 
common mistake, ilen think that the occasirm 
makes the hero; wdiereas it onlv reveals him. 

The train must have been laid long before, and 



c;irefully, else the f.alling of a single- spark would 
iie\er blast the uught\" rucks cir >hi\-er the frown- 
in.g fortress-walls. Idiere nui>t be the faljric ol 
strong and iiuble ch.aracter, built up Ijv |)aticnt 
ci.intinu;iiice in well-doing, else the Midden appeal 
iif the critical hour \\'ill knock vainh' at the door 
of life, and the soul wdll crouch unanswering and 
helpless within. 

If great opportunities were to come most, we 
could make nothing of them. They would pass 
liy as unnoticed or unimproved. The_\' would go 
frnm us tn tlinse who had more nerve, or grit, 
or spiritual piower than we. You cannot, just 
because you will. S[)eak a foreign kanguage. or 
dash off a lirilliant air upon the piano, or talk 
e.asdy on the motive of one of Browning's poems. 
All these demand long ami ardu-ais studv ; that 
must be given first in the chamlier ; and then, if 
a sudden summons ccimes for an\- of them, on the 
hiiusetop of ribservation, vou vdll be ready. 

You cannot be brave in a crisis, if a'Ou are 
habitually a coward. You canmit be generous 
with a fortune, if }'ou are a miser with a penny. 
You cannot lie unselfish in some such accident 
which imperils life, if xinx are alwavs pressing 
for the nne wacant seat in train or omnibus, and 
elbowing your wa}- to the front on every possible 
occasion. Da\id must practise with sling and 
stone through long hours in the wilderness, or he 
will ne\'er bring down Goliath. 

If we were eager to secure a good emplovee 
for a responsil.ile position, we should not attach 
much importance to the way in which the candi- 
date acted on a set occasion, when he knew that 
he was being observed. Of course he would be 
on his best behavior. But give us a private win- 
dow so that we can watch him in his least con- 
sidered actions — bow he behaves at home, how 
he treats his mother and sisters, how- he fulfils 
the conmion duties of life. W hat he is then, he 
is reall\-. 

But if this is man's way. mav it not be God's? 
dhere are great tasks to be fulfilled in eternity; 
angels to be judged; cities to be ruled; perhaps 
worlds to be evangelized. For these, suitable 
agents will be required ; those w ho can rule, be- 
cause they have ser\-ed; those wdio can command, 
because they have obeyed; those who can save 
others, because the}- nCA'er saved themselves. 
Perhaps, even now, our heavenly Father is en- 
gaged in seeking those among us w-ho can fill 
these posts. And he is seeking them, not among 
such as are filling high positioi-is in the eves of 
men, liut in the ranks of such as are treading the 
trivial rounil and are fulfilling the conmion task. 

J-'ron-i tjie nearest fixed star, the ir.equalities of 
our earth, whether of Alp or molehill, are alike 



316 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



insignificant. Wt need to look at our positions 
from the standpoint of eternity, and probably we 
shall lie startled at the small differences between 
the lots of men. The one thing for us all is to 
abide in our calling with God, to count ourselves 
as his fellow-workers, to do what we can in his 
grace and for his glory ; never excusing our- 
selves ; never condoning failure or misdoing; 
never content unless, bv the help of the blessed 
Spirit, we have wrought out his promptings and 



suggestions to the best of our power, whether in 
the gold of the extraordinary or the bronze of 
the cheaper and more ordinar_\', achievement. 

May each reader learn this happy art, and go 
through life offering all to God, as the white- 
stoled priests in the temple of old, for indeed all 
believers have lieen made priests unto God; every 
sphere may be a holy temple ; and every act, done 
in* the name of Jesus, may be a spiritual sacrifice, 
acceptable to God. 



WORDS OF HELP FOR GIRLS 



THE CONSECRATED LIFE 

In all this world there is nothing fairer than the 
young life which God has given vou, with its 
sunny laughter, its high spirits, its hopes and 
golden dreams, its wealth of pure atl'ection. You 
can enrich the poorest home, as no money could. 
You can lighten the hardest lot. You can cheer 
the roughest path, making the weary feet forget 
the sharp flints. You can find the blue flowers 
blooming amid arctic snows. And by doing so, 
you may give and get untold blessings. 

If you have given your heart and life to the 
Lord Jesus, j-ou will never regret that stc]), bv 
which Jesus has become your brother. Remem- 
ber how he said. "Whosoever shall do the will of 
God, the same is . . . my sister." And no one 
knows better than he does, how much is meant 
by the tie between a strong and noble brother and 
the sisters who shelter beneath his care. He 
grew up with sisters in that village home under 
the blue Syrian skies; and, as the shadows of 
death gathered round his path, b.e made much of 
the love of his adopted sisters in the home of 
Bethany. 

Words fail to tell .vou all that the Lord Tesus 
will do for you. f-fe will keep }'Our hearts whiter 
than snow, removing each stain of sin bv his own 
precious blood. Lie will put himself as a shield 
between vou and all manner of hurt. Me will 
make }'0U his special charge. He will quench 
your thirst from the brinuning chalice of his own 
love. In perplexity he will guide; in peril he will 
protect; in necessitv he will supply vour need. 
He will give you — what a'l women long for— the 
sense of belonging to s'inie one. good enough, 
wise enough, and strong en lugh, to trust without 
misgiving or fear. 

But I do hope a-ou wi'l lie .\ll for him. This is 
the onl)- path r<n wliir'i iIk- ^I'tihe-^mq nlways plav. 
There are man\- proii-^sn;.' i. !iri>ii.-ins who have 



just enough religion to make them miserable; 
and they might as well be wdthout any. They 
take a good drink of the sweets of the world, and 
they try to cjuiet their conscience by a pilgrimage 
to the living well. But though they rattle the 
chains, and let down their buckets, they never 
get one pure crystal drop for their poor parched 
lips, because they do not seek the Lord with all 
their hearts. y\nd so, after a little while, they 
rush off again to the gilded pleasures of the 
world. Do not make their mistake. As Jesus 
ga-\-e all for you, so give all to him ; and he will 
give you back one hundredfold. 

Directly you are right with Christ, other things 
will right themselves. 



RULES ABOUT DRESS 

Dress perplexes some, and takes up much time 
and thought. It is a difficult subject, and yet 
there are several clear rules to guide a Christian 
girl. Do not dress showilv, or e.xtravagantly, or 
beyond your means. Do not dress in such a way 
as to call attention to any part of your figure, or 
to distort or alter it. Do not dress so that people 
shall notice your dress more than vourselves. 
There is no reason whv the general stvle of your 
dress should not be like that of others. To be 
totally out of the fashion would make you need- 
lessly singular, and attract as much attention as if 
you were dressed in the height of fashion ; and 
whatever makes others think of us, or us think 
of ourselves, turns our thoughts away from Jesus, 
and from better things. I think that there is no 
higher art for a Christian girl than to dress sim- 
ply, quietly, and tastefullv, as one who is careful 
of the body which Christ has given, but who is 
mindful also of the Apostle's words; "Let the 
women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with 
shamefacedness and sobriety." 



SERMONS AXI) SEED-THOUGHTS EOR T'.OVS AXI) GIRLS 



317 



The use of ornaments i< also a matter of great 
heart-questioning'. It is not an essential matter, 
but where there are doulns the little trinkets 
should he laid aside, till the douhts are cleared 
awav. It does seem strange tiiat so much nione\' 
should he locked up in articles of personal adorn- 
ment, when the Lord's cause is sutTering for want 
of help! A Chinese Christian lady brought her 
jewels one morning to her husband, to luiild an 
opium-refuge; and when he expressed surprise, she 
said, "I ha\'e taken Christ for my adornuKiit, and 
surelv that is enough for an\" Christian wnman." 
Put on the Lord Jesus, young sisters, an^l vou 
will lose vour taste for nian\' things you now 
hold dear, as most girls would throw away glass 
iewelrv. if offered real gems. 'ANdiose adorning 
let it not be the outward adorning of plaiting the 
hair, and of wearing of jewels of gold, or of put- 
ting on apparel ; hut let it be the incorruptible 
apparel of a meek and quiet spirit, which is m 
the sight of God of great price." The wcimau 
who loads herself with jewels confesses herself 
wanting in the jewels of the heart: hut she who 
has got these, troubles little about the diamonds 
or pearls of earthly mines. 



THE GIRL'S A^IUSE^IEXTS 

Amusements also exercii^e many. W'e must have 
rest and change in these busy, eager times : but 
we must watch our leisure hours, lest they do us 
more harm than good. Some ways of spending 
them simply increase the exhaustion of the jaded 
mind and tired bodv, rendering us unfit for quiet 
prayer or daily work. Eor these reasons, and for 
others, you must keep clear of every low theater, 
concert-hall, and similar place of degrading 
amusement. At its best, but only at its best, the 
theater is "a noble handmaid of the higher life.' 
and as such it mav be wisely visited b\' }-oung 
persons. 

You cannot go to evil places, and keep the ful- 
ness of the Spirit, or the love of Jesus. You can- 
not go to them without hearing or seeing things 
which should bring a blush to the face. You can- 
not go to them without putting }-ourselves into 
the way of men with whom you should have no 
dealings w-hatever. The atmosphere of such 
places will blight the fairest life, as gas blights 
tender plants. You will soon cease to care for 
them, if you live near Christ, just as people put 
out their fires when the summer sun is shining. 
Remember the duties and calls of home, the ne- 
cessity for elder sisters to throw themselves into 
the amusements of younger children, the man_\- 
social and educational meetings held at churches 



and cha|iels. ^'. W. C. .\.'s, and other institutions, 
and ydu will find that there is no need for you 
to seek pk-asurc in tilings wdiich lea\'e a sting 
behind. 

Dancing is a matter to be settled on grounds 
i.if self-respect ami prr.pnet}-. ( )ne mav well won- 
iler how ,girls who lia\'c anv self-respect can 
\ield ihemseK-es, especially when attired in the 
tlims}- costume of a ballroom or a "dance-hall," to 
the embraces of strange men, whose morals may 
he worse than doubtful. It does nrjt seem fit that 
the body of a Christian, meant to be the temple 
of the Holy ijhost, should be whirled through 
the maze of a waltz by one whose linen may be 
spotless, but wdiose soul is dark with the ruin of 
some (if }-our sisters, who, though fallen now, 
were mice "white as the beautiful snow," Young 
men are rather careful that the girls they love 
should not go to promiscuous dances, and a straw 
will show tlie drift of the stream, Xo sensible 
man will choose his wife in such surroundings, 
nor a wise woman her husband. A young Chris- 
tian girl said that since she had given up such 
pleasures for Christ he had filled her with un- 
speakable joy. 

But we can see no harm in "crossing the room 
to the sound of music" ; and dancing in the home, 
or in the companv of friends and suitable ac- 
quaintances, is a pleasant and healthful pastime, 
in which young and oM of both sexes ma}- find 
cnioxiuent and social recreation. 



CARE IX XOVEL-READIXG 

M.\XY a noble tree has been eaten through by 
minute insects, and many a proinising character 
has been inwardly rotted by certain kinds of 
novels and novelettes. Some young persons, 
wdien once siuitten by this fever, do nothing else 
liut read trashy and sentimental stories. They 
rob themseh'es of food and sleep to read them. 
And then a great change often takes place. They 
are so absorbed with the joys and sorrows of 
imaginary people, that they overlook those of 
their immediate circle. Their appetite is so cloyed 
Iiv sweets that they ha\-e no interest in the bread 
of life. They talk to you as those wdio are living 
in a dreamland of unreality. Y'e entreat you to 
guard against the insidirius growth of this appe- 
tite. If you find it increasing on you. break it 
off; lay it aside in the strength uf Christ, as the 
runner lavs asid_' "every weight," If you read 
stories, read onlv those bv the best story-tellers^ 
such novels as those of Scott, Dickens, and 
Thackerav, of Haw-thorne, Anthony Troloppe, 
and Kingsley,of Jane Austen and George Eliot, and 



318 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



of other writers, in the older countries and in our 
own, who, Hke those mentioned, give us not only 
great literature, but also lessons in character and 
conduct that improve the mind and help us in 
daily living. Among books for young people by 
some of our own authors now or lately living — 
such writers as Louisa M. Alcott, Frances Hodg- 
son Burnett, Kate Douglas Wiggin, F. R. Stock- 
ton, Laura E. Richards, and others— are stories 
that may interest and instruct their readers even 
in better ways than many works that appear more 
seriously written could do. And remember too 
that there are many books of travel, and history, 
and biography equal in interest to any fiction that 
ever was spun in the brain of man or woman. 



KEEP ABSOLUTE PURITY 

All around you are impure books, and men, and 
works; ready to soil you, as smuts do the clean 
linen put out to dry in some poor courtyard. 
You must guard against their first approach. So 
long as you are pure, you will find that Christlike 
chastity is an armor from which all these poi- 
soned darts will glance aside. Depend upon it, 
a woman may pass unhurt through the foulest 
atmosphere if only her heart is pure, and she is 
living in touch with Christ. And many a time 
she will be able to frown down some indecent 
and unseemly jest, or to screen some young life. 

Every woman looks forward, as Ruth did, to 
be at rest in the home of her husband. Alas ! 
how terrible, in many cases, has been the process 
of disenchantment. The shores of time are strewn 
with the wrecks of women's loves and hopes. 
And all because they have forgotten that true 
human love must be grounded on the love and 



choice and will of God. Human love cannot sat- 
isfy apart from the love of God. Human love 
may be the cup, but it must brim with the living 
water of the love of God. y\nd if there be the 
love of God, it will satisfy the heart, though it 
should never know the sweets of human love. 
Jesus suffices for heaven ; can he not for one poor 
life? There is light in the sun for a single daisy 
as well as for the whole world of flowers. 

Make Jesus your counselor about your future 
lot. It will take many wrong motives away, if 
instead of feeling that you must attract men to 
yourself, you quietly go on your way, leaving him 
to choose a husband for you, and whom he will. 
If no one comes, then don't fret— it is not yours 
to care ; he has chosen for you the single lot, that 
he may have all your love, and that you may do 
for others what you could not do if you were 
absorbed by home claims. If any one seems at- 
tracted to you, be sure not to look first at the out- 
ward advantages offered you, but ask if he be 
God's choice for you. And never allow your own 
heart to go outward toward any one, unless you 
are sure that you are being led by the Spirit of 
God. 

Nothing is more important than the union of 
heart with heart, and yet there is nothing into 
which people drift more heedlessly. A look, a 
smile, a touch, a moment's talk in a crowded 
room, amid the excitement of an evening's gaiety 
— any of these is deemed sufificient to justify a 
choice that may affect the destiny of the spirit for 
evermore ! Do not fall into this mistake. Make 
it all a matter of earnest prayer, not only when a 
new affection has suddenly spoken to you, and 
your heart is thrilling with its new-found rapture, 
but now, when such things seem indistinct, as 
hills veiled by morning mist. 



THE DAUGHTER OE JAIRUS 

" The girl is not dead, but sleepetli." — il/i?//. ix. 24 



Any girl would say, after reading this storv, that 
no other had such experience as the girl known 
to us as the daughter of Jairus. This would be 
quite right. To die and then to be raised from 
death happens only to a few. Yet something 
nearly like it happens to nianv, many girls. Let 
me tell you the story and you can see for your- 
self. After an illness the daughter of Jairus died. 
The doctors could not save her. Jairus the father 
sought everywhere for Jesus our Lord that he 
might come and cure her, but Jesus was not 
found until she died. Then the sorrowing father 



said to Jesus ; "Come anyway to my house, lay 
thy hand on her, and she shall live." He was a 
man of great faith. He knew that Jesus was the 
Son of God, and that life and 'death lay in his 
divine hands. It was easy for him to give life to 
the dead. 

So Jesus went with Jairus to his house. Every- 
thing had been made ready for the burial, because 
in those days and places it was necessary to bury 
as soon as possible after death. The relatives, 
friends, and neighbors of Jairus gathered in the 
house to prepare for the funeral, and were aston- 



Coiirtesv T:~--. T f!ur,- Society. N. Y. 







Copyn^,it oy Tii^ut. i->;-^'.. 



CHRIST PREACHING BY THE SEASIDE. 
3'9 



320 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



ished when the father returned with Jesus, who 
said to them plainly that their presence was not 
needed, because the girl was not deatl, but onl_y 
sleeping. And they laughed at him. They had 
been present during her illness, had seen her die, 
and knew what death was; and this stranger just 
come in declares the girl to be sleeping. They 
laughed him to scorn. Jairus and his wife fol- 
lowed Tesus into the chamber where the dead girl 
lay. 

She lay there like a little waxen flower, look- 
ing like life but Cjuite dead. Oh, how sad and 
hopeless is death to those that love ! Her father 
and mother looked at the little, still body, the 
sweet lips so pale, the eyes that seemed ready to 
open and that would never open again of them- 
sch'es, and with sinking hearts looked at the great 
Master. What would he do? Jairus never 
doubted. His heart knew what was coming. In 
his great and simple way Jesus took the cold 
hand of the little girl and spoke to her as if she 
were asleep: Dear little girl, awake, arise! 

And all at once the blood leaped in her body, 
color flashed in her cheek and lips, the lips parted 
to breathe, her hands moved, her eyes opened, 
and she smiled upon her parents, then 'sat up and 
gave herself to their embraces. What a scene I 
What a wonder for those who saw it! What joy 
for Jairus and his wife ! WHiat adoration and 
love for Jesus, wh(? thus showed his divine power ! 
And what questions for the girl restored, as to 
how she had felt in death, in dying, in returning 
to life ! People came by hundreds to sec her and 
to hear her and to inquire of her. She must have 
become famous in her day as the child of the 
miracle. 

Yet I say that something like what happened 
to her also happens to many children of our time. 
Here, for example, is a child only thirteen years 
old wdao is as dead as the daughter of Jairus, but 
in a different way. She is dead in selfishness. 
Did vou ever see a girl so selfish that she could 



not think of any one until she had satisfied her- 
self? I have seen quite a number. They were 
e"\'en more dead than the daughter of Jairus. 
She, of course, could not think of any one, and 
least of all of her own self. But the really and 
truly selfish girl is able to think of herself and of 
others, but refuses to think of any one but her- 
self. She is dead to every one but herself. She 
thinks and feels and speaks and acts, but only for 
herself. Such a girl is alive, and yet is really 
dead. 

Her father and mother grieve for her very 
much. They try in every way to sa\'e her. They 
teach her, warn her, punish her. Her teachers 
and friends do the same. In many ways she is 
urged to see the ugliness of keeping everything 
for herself, of demanding everything for herself, 
of taking the best share in everything, and of 
giving nothing in return. All in vain. She is 
quite dead. She cannot understand what is said, 
nor wdiat she sees. People begin to dislike and 
detest her, but she does not understand. Her 
parents are in despair. Then perhaps they turn 
to Jesus and ask him to send light into her mind, 
and feeling into her heart: that is, to restore her 
to life, for she is dead in selfishness. 

How happy for her and them if their prayers 
are answered ! She returns to life. She is no 
longer dead. She begins to love father and 
mother, friend and playmate. She begins to un- 
derstand how much more blessed it is to give 
than to receive. She is a very different girl. Is 
not this precisely what happened to the daughter 
of Jairus? Thus you see many girls have had 
a similar experience to the dead girl, without 
having died at all. Dear child, who read this, are 
you living or dead ? Are you so kind to others as 
to think little of yourself? Then you are very 
much alive. Are you so kind to yourself that 
you think nothing of others ? Then you are dead. 
Only the Lord Jesus can prove that vou are sleep- 
ing, and wake you from that dreadful sleep. 



CHRISTMAS BELLS 



"Bells of gold." — E.v. xx\iii. S3 

Ox the hem of the high priest's robe were "bells The story I have for you, I found in "Why the 
of gold." When he went in before the ark to Chimes Rang." If you ever meet Raymond M. 
pray for the people, they heard the bells and were Alden, thank him for it. 

There was once, in a far-away country where 
few people have ever traveled, a wonderful 
church with a gray stone tower, with ivy growing 
over it as far up as one could see. In the tower 
was a chime of Christmas bells. 



happy. They knew he was alive and praying for 
them. Christ is our High Priest and he is pra\'ing 
for us. H' we love Christ and obev him, our 
hearts hear the "bells of gold," and we know h<= 
is praying for us 



SERMONS AXD SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AXD GIRLS 321 

On Christmas eve all the people of the city that he had hecn makin,i; for vears and years; 
brought to the church their olTcrin^-s to the and last ..f all walked the km^- of the country. 
Christ-chdd, and when the greatest and hest nf- hojdn.i;- with all the re-t Im wm for himself tlie 
fering was laid on the altar, there would come chime of the (hri-tmas hell-, ddiere was a .^^reat 
sounding- through the niu-ic of the ehuir the murmur thrnugli the church a- the people saw- 
voices of the Christmas chimes far up in the the king take from his head the royal cnwvn. all 
tower. Some said the wind rang them, and others >et with dianicinds and other precious stones, and 
that they were so high that the angels could set lay it gleaming on the altar as his offering to the 
them swinging. But lor many long years the)- holy Child. "Surelv," the}- said, "we shall hear 
had never been heard. the hells now." But the chin.-ies ilid not ring. 

A number of miles from the eit}-, in a little The procession \\-as o\-er. the gifts were all on 

country village, lived a boy named Pedro and his the altar, and the choir had fjcgun the closing 

little brother. h_\-nu-i. Suddenly the organist stopped playing, 

The day before Christmas was bitterly cold, and e\-er_\- cme hiokeil at the old minister, who was 
but the two boys started on their way to the standing in his place and holding up his hand for 
Christmas celebration: and. before nightfall they silence. -\s the people strained their ears to lis- 
had trudged so far. hand in hand, that they saw ten. there came softly but distinctiv, swinging 
the lights of the big city just ahead of them. In- through the air, the sound of the liells in the 
deed, thev were about to enter one of the great tow-er ! So far awav and \-et so clear seemed the 
gates in the wall that surrounded it when they music, so much sweeter w-ere the notes than anv- 
saw something dark on the snow near their path, thing that had been heard Ix-fore, rising and fall- 
and stepped aside to look at it. It was a poor ing away up there in the skv, that the people in 
woman, -ivho had fallen just outside the city, too the church sat fr^r a moment ver\- still. Then 
sick and tired and cold to get in w-here she might they all stood up together and stared at the altar, 
have found shelter. PeiJro. finding that he could to see w-hat great gift had aw-akened the long- 
not rouse her. said: "It's no use, little brother; silent bells. 
vou -will have to go alone to the church." But all that the nearest of them sa-w w-as the 

''Alone?" cried little brother, "and you will not childish figure of Pedro's brother, w-ho had crept 

seethe Christmas festival?" softly down the al^le w-hen no one was looking, 

"No," said Pedro; and he could not help a little and had laid Pedro's little piece of silver on the 

choking sound of disappointment in his threat, altar. 
''See this poor woman: her face looks like the 

Madonna in the chapel window, and she w-ill '■There comes to my mind a legend, a thing I had half 
freeze to death if nobody cares for her. I ai-n 
sure the Christ-child must know how- I w-ould 

love to come and worship him: and oh I if you it is said that in heaven at twilight a great "Dell softly 
get a chance, little brother, to slip up to the altar 
without getting in anv one's wav, take this little 



torgot, 

And whether I read it or dreamed it — ah, w-ell, it 
matters ne-t. 



s\\-ings, 
And men may hasten and hearken to the wonderful 
music that sings. 



silver piece of mine and la\- it down for my cfter- 

ing. when no one is looking." _ ..^. ^. ^^j. f^,.,,^^ ^^^ ^^^^^-^ ;„„„ chamber all the 

The great church was truly a wonderful place passion, pains, and strife ; 

that night. After the ser\-ice. the people tijok Heartache and weary longing that throb in the pulses 

their gifts to the altar for the Christ-child. Some of life ; , ,, . v^ t 

, t. J x 1 ■ 1 v 1 . *- I't If he thrust from his soul all hatred, all thought ot 

brought wonderful jewels, s.jme baskets ot gold wicked thines 

so heavy that they could scarcely carry them He can hear in the holy twilight how the bell of 

down the aisle ; a great writer laid down a book heaven rings." 



A SERMON FOR HALLOWE'EN 

"The man that deceiveth his neighbor, and saith, Am not I in sport '—Fto:-. xxvi. 19 

Thirteen centuries ago Hallowe'en was a holv an "All Spirits' day." All spirits, good aiid evil, 

dav in Mav. It was' called "All Saints' dav." were thought to be on earth that night. Witches 

The evening before wa= known as Hallowe'en, or and fairies visited homes and played tricks and 

holy evening. On November ist the heathen had had a good time. In order to keop these evil 



322 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



spirits away church-bells were kept ringing all 
night. 

When these pagans were converted to Chris- 
tianity the Church thought In' putting the two 
holy days, "All Saints' da}-" and "All Spirits' 
dajr," together, they would make it easier for the 
pagans to be good Christians. They took "All 
Saints' day" from May and put it into "All Spir- 
its' day" in November. At first the real good 
Christians celebrated the evening of October 31 
in a Christian wav. Those who were not so good 
celebrated it in their old pagan way. The pagan 
evening soon swallowed up the Christian evening, 
leaving only its name. Now, after thirteen cen- 
turies, we still have the Christian name and the 
pagan celebration. When the boys kindle the 
bonfires it is the old pagan worship of the sun. 
^Vhen children crack nuts it is a relic of the old 
pagan superstition. How can we keep all the 
fun and have less pagan and more Christian in 
our Hallowe'en? 

In western Pennsylvania, when I was a boy, 
Hallowe'en was a night when boys and girls 
took the place of witches and fairies. They would 
deceive their neighbors and then sav : "Weren't 
we in sport?" One Hallowe'en a farmer had his 
wagon loaded with wheat ready for market. A 
number of the neighboring bovs and voung men 
went to his barn that night, unloaded the wheat 
and took the wagon, piece by piece, and put it 
together on the very top of the barn. Then they 
carried up the wheat and put it in the wagon. It 
was hard work, but wdien finished they rolled on 
the ground and laughed to think of how surprised 
this farmer would be. Before daylight the farmer 
came out, harnessed his horses, and got ready for 
an early start to market. When he opened the 
barn doors there was no wagon to be found. He 
hunted until daylight and then found the wagon 
on the top of his barn. They were not bad boys, 
but did this in order to have a little sport. I 
think those boys could have had just as much 
sport and a little more if they had surprised their 
neighbors in another wav. 

Suppose they had taken a wagonful of flour 
and potatoes and meat, and in the quiet hours of 
the night had driven to the homes of their neigh- 
bors who were very, very poor, and left some of 
these good things at their doors. They could 
have had a good, rollicking laugh at the thought 
of how surprised these people would be when 
they came out next morning. 

Just imagine a widow with a number of chil- 
dren and scarcely anything in the house for break- 



fast. The next morning she prays that God 
would send something to eat. Then she takes the 
water-pail and starts for the spring. As she 
opens the door something falls on the step. She 
is so frightened that she drops the pail and runs 
back to the window. She sees a barrel of flour, 
a bag of potatoes, some meat, and a number of 
good things. What a joke that would be for the 
boys — to imagine how surprised she would be. 
They could roll over the ground and almost over 
themselves laughing at the way the poor woman 
would look at the answer to her prayer on Hal- 
lowe'en. 

Then suppose there was a farmer who was sick 
and too poor to hire men to husk his corn. The 
boys could go to his field and husk his corn and 
put it in the crib. Imagine the fun of seeing the 
sick man next morning in bed leaning on his 
elbow and looking out at his empty cornfield and 
full corncrib. Boys will be boys, and in this way 
they could have funnels full of fun on Hallow- 
e'en. 

Shall I tell yon a story ? One Hallowe'en a 
boy rang the drug-store bell. The clerk came 
down and opened the door. All he saw was a 
pumpkin with holes for eyes, nose, mouth, and 
ears, through which a candle was shining. The 
boys had a good laugh and meant no harm. They 
were not bad, only wanted some fun. The clerk 
was mad and thought the boys were bad. When 
the boy who rang the bell went home he saw the 
doctor's horse at the gate. He ran in and found 
baby sister very sick. The doctor said, "Peter, 
run as fast as you can and get this medicine." 
He rang and rang the bell, but the clerk did not 
come down. The next morning there was crape 
on the door of the baby's home. 

Solomon says: As a mad man wdio casteth fire- 
brands, arrows, and death, so is the man that de- 
ceiveth his neighbor, and saith, "Am not I in 
sport?" 

Do not forget that Hallowe'en means Holy 
Eve. An evening set apart to think of those who 
were like saints of God in your life. Commit to 
memory now what Lowell wrote, and as you grow 
older the meaning will unfold and help you to 
enjoy Hallowe'en. 

" One feast, of holy days the crest, 

I, thougli no churcJiman, love to keep, 
All Saints — the unknown good that rest 

Tn God's still memory folded deep. 
The bravely dumb who did their deed, 

And scorned to blot it with a name. 
Men of the plain heroic breed. 

That loved Heaven's silence more than fame." 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



323 



LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY 



'On his lurtliilav.' 



-MarL- 



In the rear 1S09 a boy wa? born. Tbe house he 
was to call "home" had a kitchen, a ilining-rooni, 
a nurserv, a playroom, a bedroom, a hbrarv, a 
parlor, and a roof-garden. 11ns, you saw was 
rather a fine house, and that bo\''s parents must 
have been rich. But all these rnoms were one 
room, with a dirt tloor. It had one big fireplace, 
one window, and but one door. There was but 
one bed, and the father had made it out of rough 
boards. This family was ^■ery poor and this one- 
room log cabin was the bo\''s home. In this home 
was the original one-shelf library. On it were 
five books: "-Tsop's Fables." "Pilgrim's Prog- 
ress," a "Life of Washington," "Eurns's Poems." 
and the Bible. If the boy had known how poor 
his house and parents were he might ha\x been 
lost to the world bv dying from overcr\ing-. A 
log cabin with a dirt floor — but at the (ither end 
of his life was the White House with tiled floors. 

The parents named their boy Abraham, but the 
name was too long for one room, so thev short- 
ened it to "Abe," and bv this name he has lieen 
known for one hundred years — "Abe Lincoln." 

But I must not forget to tell you that insi'le of 
this large-small house there was one of the most 
beautiful homes ever built on earth. It had a 
cozy-corner, light and warm. For Abe there was 
everything a boy could ask for in a home. The 
peculiaritv of this home was that while Abe found 
it inside the house, it was larger than the house. 
He continued to live in the love of this home all 
his life. AAdien he became President he to'ik his 
memory and love of this home with him and 
found it more beautiful than the Wdiite House. 
The name of this wonderful home was "mother." 
Your teacher will probablv tell vou that our three 
best words are "mother," "home," and "heaven," 
but they are like the rooms in the cabin, all one. 
It is mother that makes a home, and a home and 
mother make heaven, so reallv there is but one 
best word, and that is "mother." Better a log 
cabin with a dirt floor and mother, than a palace 
and Persian rugs without a mother. 

He had a strong body. With a helper he in 
one day split three thousand fence-rails. This 
gave him a new name, "the rail-splitter." He 
became the champion rail-splitter of his district, 
and turned this skill to much account, as is seen 
from his bargain made \\ith ^Irs. Nancy Glider 
to "split four hundred rails for every yard of 
brown jeans, dyed with white walnut bark that 
would be necessary to make him a pair of trou- 



sers." He was a very strong young man. but he 
was not handsome. He once told about a photo- 
graiih he hail taken. He said: "This coarse, 
rough hair of mine was in a particularly ba^J 
tousle, and the picture presented me in all its 
fright. After nn- nomination, this being about 
the only picture there was. copies were struck to 
show those who had never seen me how I looked. 
The ncwsliox'S carried them around to sell and 
had for their cry. 'Here's old Abe ; he'll look bet- 
ter when he gets his hair coiubed.' " It is better 
to ha\-e strength without beauty, than beauty 
without strength. 

A poor wcjman fought her way into his pres- 
ence and made a mother's plea for her son, who 
had been sentenced to death for some violation 
of the militarv laws. Lincoln listened to her 
pleadings, and presentiv wrote something on a 
piece of paper which he hamled to her. In a mx)- 
ment more, seeing that it was her son's pardon, 
she fell at her benefactor's feet, kissed his hands, 
then looking up into his face, she murmured: "I 
knew thev lied; I knew they lied!" Lincoln asked 
her meaning, to which she replied, "Oh, sir. they 
told me vou were a homely man. but I think you 
are the handsomest man I ever saw!'' 'Twas 
true. For mercy and humanity's appeal to his 
great heart had beautified his face as they did his 
life! He had more than a strong body; he had 
a strong and rugged brain. 

He attended a very private school. The pri- 
vate schocd was the chimne\--corner in the log 
cabin. His mother was the teacher. You will be 
interested in his writing-pad. It was the back of 
a big wooden shovel. When it was written over, 
he shaved off the wood and had a new pad. His 
lead-pencil was a piece of charcoal. He gradu- 
ated from the largest uni\-ersit}- in the world. 
The university had three departments — the fields, 
the streams, and the forest. When other boys 
were placing, he was thinking. 

If vou boys and girls ever visit Rutherford 
Park. X". ]., ^'ou will find a big boulder on which 
is cut his Gettysburg address. This rugged boul- 
der is a good illustration of his rugged nature and 
strong brain, and the address represents the won- 
ders that his brain could perform. There are but 
ten sentences ami two hundred and sixtv-eight 
words in this Gett\-sburg adilress, but it is the 
onlv chapter of .\nierican literature ever taught 
in an English universit)-. 

It is better to have a rugged brain from vvhich 




3H 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR EOYS AND GIRLS 



325 



came this wonderful address, tlian to have a brain 
so smooth and so well polished as simply to shine 
and notlung more. 

He had more than a strong Ijody and a wonder- 
ful brain; he had a big, warm, rugged heart. His 
motto was, "Charity for all, malice toward none.' 
If vou bovs and girls will take this for your 
motto; charity or lo\"e for c\cry person in the 
world, and malice — that is, dislike or hatred — for 
no person in the world, it will help to make you 
great. His religious creed was e\"en shorter and 
better than his Gettysburg speech ; "Thou slialt 
love the Lord th\- God with all th\- heart, and 
with all thv soul, and with all th)- mind, and thy 
neighbor as thyself." 

A little story will show \-ou how large he was. 
In "Our Birds and Their Nestlings," we find this 
storv of Lincoln. In the early pioneer da}-s, when 
Abraham Lincoln was a young attorney and 
"rode the circuit," he was one day traveling on 
horseback from one town to another with a party 
of friends who were law\-ers like himself. 



The road which they traveled led across prai- 
ries and through woods. As they passed through 
a gro\"e where the birds were singing merrily, 
the\- noticed a li:d)y liird which had fallen from 
the nest and ki)- tluttering by the roadside. After 
they h;id gone a short distance, Lincoln stopped, 
turned, and said, "Wait for me a moment; I will 
soon rejoin }ou." As his friends halted and 
watched him, they saw Lincoln return to the 
place where the helpless bird lay on the ground, 
and tenderl)- take it up ami set it on a limb near 
the nest. Wdien he joined his companions, one 
of them laughinglv asked, "A'hv did vou bother 
yourself and delay us with such a trifle as 
that?" 

Abraham Lincoln's repiv deserves to be remem- 
bered. "i\I\- friend," said he, "I can only* say this 
— that I feel better for it. I could not have slept 
to-night if I had left that helpless little creature 
to perish on the ground." 

Of God it is said; "Not a sparrow falleth with- 
out his notice." 



THE FINE ART OE KINDNESS 



As we meet and touch each day 
The many travelers on our way, 
Let every such brief contact be 
A glorious, helpful ministry! 
The contact of the soil and seed; 
Each giving to the other's need — 
Each helping on the other's best. 
And blessing each as well as blest ! 

— Susan CooUdgc. 

If you are going to do a good thing, do it now; 
if you are going to do a mean thing, wait till to- 
""orrow, -Anouymous. 

Little self-denials, little honesties, little passing 
words of sympathy, little nameless acts of kind- 
ness, little silent victories over favorite tempta- 
tions—these are the silent threads of gold which, 
when woven together, gleam out so brightl}- in 
the pattern of life that God approves. 

— Canon Farrar. 

It seems to me it is the same with love and hap- 
piness as with sorrow — the more we know of it 
the better we can feel what other people's lives 
are or might be, and so we shall only be more 
tender to them and wishful to help them. 

— George Eliot. 

The tender words and loving deeds which we 
scatter for the hearts whieh are nearest to us are 



immortal seed that will spring up in everlasting 
beauty, not only in our own lives, but in the lives 
of those born after us. 

— Cliarles H. Spurgcon. 

Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 

'Tis only noble to be good. 
Kind hearts are more than coronets. 

And simple faith than Xorman blood. 

— Alfred, Lord Tennyson. 

Dig channels for the streams of Love, 
Wdiere they may broadly run ; 

And Love has overflowing streams 
To fill them every one. 

But if at any time thou cease 
Such channels to pro\"ide. 

The very springs of Love for thee 
Will soon be parched and dried. 

For we must share, if we would keep. 
That good thing from above ; 

Ceasing to give, we cease to have- 
Such is the law of Love. 

— Richard C. Trench. 

Th.\t da}- is best wherein we give 

A thought to others' sorrows; 
Forgetting self, we learn to live, 
Anci blessings born of kindly deeds 
Make golden our to-morrows. 

-Rose H. Thot-pc. 



326 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



He taught the virtues, first and last, 

He taught us manhood, more and more, 

The simple courage that stands fast, 
The patience of the poor; 

Love for all creatures, great and small. 

And trust in Something over all. 

— Richard H. Stoddard. 

An arm of aid to the weak, 

A friendly hand to the friendless, 

Kind words so short to speak. 
But whose echo is endless — 

The world is wide, these things are small, 

Thev ma}' be nothing — but they are all ! 

— IViUiain C. Gannett. 

Among the pitfalls on our way 
The best of us walk blindly; 



So, man, be wary, watch and pray. 
And judge your brother kindly. 

—Alice Gary. 

There are people who do great acts ; but because 
they wait for great opportunities, life passes, and 
the acts of love are not done at all. 

^Frederick IV. Robertson. 

It is time to be kind; it is kind to be sweet, 
To be scattering roses for somebody's feet. 
It is time to be sowing; it is time to be growing; 
It is time for the flowers of life to be blowing. 

— Anonymous. 

So many Gods, so many creeds. 

So many paths that wind and wind, 
While just the art of being kind 

Is all the sad world needs. 

-Ella W. Wilcox. 



THE NOBILITY OF WORK 



No man is born into this world v/hose work is not 
born with him ; there is always work, and tools to 
work withal, for those who will. 

— James Russell Loivell. 

The longer I live, the more I am certain that the 
great difference between men — between the feeble 
and the powerful, the great and the insignificant 
— is energy, invincible determination — a purpose 
once fixed, and then — death or victory. 

— Sir T. Burton. 

Every man must patiently bide his time. He 
must wait — not in listless idleness — but in con- 
stant, steady, cheerful endeavors, always willing, 
and fulfilling and accomplishing his task, that 
when the occasion comes he may be equal to the 
occasion. -Henry Wadsivorth Longfellow. 

Now — the sowing and the weeping. 
Working hard and waiting long; 

Afterward — the golden reaping. 
Harvest home and grateful song. 

-Frances R. Havergal. 

It seems to me that the first impulse, the first 
aim, of a new-born soul is service. "What shall 
I do? I want to do something."' This desire is 
out of gratitude to him who has saved you. 

— Dwiglit L. Moody. 



faculties — work for God, work for man, work in 
the state of life in which it has pleased God to 
place you, for him, for yourselves, for your fel- 
low-men. Follow this as a first principle, and you 
will find how wonderfully, how satisfyingly, all 
pleasures will group themselves healthfully and 



helpfully about work. 



-Hugh R. Haweis. 



Die when I may, I want it said of me, by those 

who knew me best, that I always plucked a thistle 

and planted a flower when I thought a flower 

would grow. n 1 r ■ 1 

° — Abraham Lincoln. 

If you want knowledge, you must toil for it; and 
if pleasure, you must toil for it. Toil is the law. 
Pleasure comes through toil, and not by self- 
indulgence and indolence. When one gets to love 
work, his life is a happy one. 

— John Ruskin. 

Rise ! for the day is passing, 

And you lie dreaming on ; 
The others have buckled their armor, 

And forth to the fight are gone: 
A place in the ranks awaits you, 

Each man has some part to play ; 
The Past and the Future are nothing. 

In the face of the stern To-day. 

— Adelaide A. Procter. 



The end and object of your existence should be I should never have made my success in life if I 
work, or the legitimate employment of all your had not bestowed upon the least thing I have ever 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 327 

undertaken the same attention and care that I w.irtliily used, will l)c a oift also to his race for- 

have bestowed upon the greatest. exer. 

-CharU'S PIckcs. _^j^,,„ y^,,^/,-,,^ 

Work is of a religious nature ; work is of a hrave Tiiaxk God every morning when you get up that 

nature; which U is the ami of all religion to be. y.ni have something t,i do that day' which must be 

.\11 true work is sacred: in all true work, were it dune whether you like it or not. Being forced to 

hut true hanj-kibor. there is something of divine- work, and fnrced to d,, your best, wih breed in 

ness. _77,^,,„,,,. Carlylc '^ "" '>-™l'erance an.l self-control, ,lili-ence and 

" '' strength of will, cheerfulness and content, and a 

,,- ,-1 • 1 1 ] c • u J 1 ■ \ ^t 1 ^ 1 ■ lumdred \-irtues which the idle will never know 

^^ HEX Christ had finished his work, the last thing ^ i lic "'-\^' kuou. 

he did was to teach his disciples about the coming -Cliarlcs Kiiigsley. 

of the Holv Spirit and wdiat he w-iiiild ilo when he , • v , , 

■n-i' 1111 1 ■ 1 i ,1 -^ M.\x IS relie\'C(i and "■a\- wdien he has nut his 

came. When he handed over his wi^rk to them, , , • , , ■ , , , , ' ' 

, ■ - 1 . 11 .1 1 ^ .1 ^- ■ ■ lieart into Ins wi.rk ani done his jest' but what 

then It was he told them that the spirit \vas com- , , . , , , . , ■ '" 

. , , , , 1 -^1 *i T. .1 ■ 'i"^ "^* ^-'^''i o^ J'^ne otherwise sha o-,ve him no 

ins: to help and to work with them. It was this » 

-. peace 
that helped those earlv Lhristians, and it will help ' ^ ,,,,.,, ^ 

— Ralf^h U ahlo Euicrsoii. 

-Dz.'iglit L. Moody. 

Learn" these two things : never be discouraged 

FiXD vour niche and iill it. If it be ever so little, 'because good things get on so slowly here; and 

if it is only to be hewer of wood, or drawer of "'^^'e'' fail daily to do that good thing which lies 

water, do something in the great battle for i iod ""^^^ 'o y"^'' 'land. 

and truth. _ " —George Macdonald. 

— Chjr'es H. S/'iirgeoii. 

We can finish nothing in this life; but we mav 

The weakest among us has a gift, howe\'er seem- make a beginning, and bequeath a noble example, 
ingly trivial, wdiich is peculiar to him, and w hich, —Sjiiinel Smiles. 



IF I A\^ERE A BOV 

BY WASHINGTON GLADDEN 

OxE cold winter dav, not long ago, I was sitting of acknowledgment, as a ro}-aIt}- on his invention, 

in the study of a minister, up in Connecticut. He But I must get to work, or yciu ma}- think that 

is a rather sober-faced man, but one wdio knows the tool that I have fitted to this handle is going 

something about bovs and girls ; and in our talk to be an auger. 

he told me that he had just been giving his Axamg I suppose that there is not a man alive who 
friends two lectures on these suliiects; "Wdiat I ever was a bo\-, nor an}- woman either, wdio 
would do if I were a Bo}'," and "AAdiat I would ne\-er was a bo\- ( ncj, nor any girl, for that mat- 
do if I were a Girl." ter I , wdio is not often thinking I and speaking out 
''Capital!" I said. "Are those titles cop)'- the thought, too, ver}- often i oi what he or she 
righted?" would do if he or she were a Ijoy. Men often 
"No," he answ-ered. wish that the}- were bii\-s. There was a song I 
"Very w-ell," I said; "I '11 use them, then, some- used to hear them sing; "I would I were a boy 
time." a,gain I" 
"You 're w-elcome to them." w-as his reply. ■ That feeling comes over most men very 
So that is where I got the hint out of w-hich strongly, now and then. And the reason why 
this article has grow-n. I don't know- what my men sometimes wish that they were boys a,s;ain 
friend said to his boys and girls; no doubt it w-as is. I suppose, that they see manv mistakes that 
sensible and kindlv counsel; but he has given me tliey made when tliev were lioys, and think that if 
a good handle for mv talk (and for a' talk, as they could try it over a-ain, the}- could do better 
well as for a tool, a handle is sometimes very im- —that they would shun snme of the errors that 
portant), and I have given him these few words have marred their lives. But, then, if they were 



328 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



boys again, they would be nothing but bo}'S, just 
as liable to make mistakes the second time as the 
first, just as ignorant, and just as headstrong. 
And, for ni)- part, after soberly thinking the mat- 
ter over, I have come to the conclusion that I 
would not try it over again if I had the chance. 
I have made some sad mistakes, but the second 
time I might make sadder ones. If I could take 
my experience back with me to boyhood, if I 
could start at ten or twelve with all or even part 
of the lessons learned that I have spent all these 
years in learning;, then I would gladly try it over 
again. I know that I should avoid many serious 
errors, that I should make much more of life the 
second time. It is idle for me to think of that; 
that cannot be. But I believe that we are placed 
together as we arc, in families and in society, the 
old and the \'0ung t("igether, in order that the ex- 
perience of those who are older mav be of use to 
those who are "\'Ounger. 

Suppose that I have been climbing a certain 
mountain. The paths are blind and whollv un- 
familiar to me, and I meet with several mishaps: 
losing my way more than once, and having to re- 
trace my steps, but succeeding, at length, in gain- 
ing the summit. On m_\- return, at the foot of the 
mountain I meet }-ou, and some such conversation 
as this takes place : 

"Hullo! (joing up the mountain?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Ever climbed it ?" 

"No, sir." 

"Don't know the road then?" 

"No; but I guess I '11 find it easy enough. Lots 
of people ha\'C found the wa}- up, and I 'm sure I 
can." 

"Oh, yes; you '11 find it, I hope. Though, for 
that matter, a great many people have missed it 
too. But, look here ! I can tell you something. 
You keep right on this path, and by and by you '11 
come to a big bowlder, and then the path divides ; 
the one that goes to the left looks the best and 
the must direct, but it is n't; I tried it and it 
landed me in a swamp in which I came near 
being stuck. The right road, then, m" the right 
road." 

"All right! Thank you! I '11 remember that." 

"Then just above, half a mile or so, there 's a 
big spruce-tree across the path; there you must 
turn to the left. I went off to the right and was 
lost in the woods, and it was two hours before I 
found my way back." 

"Thank you! Big spruce-tree across the path; 
turn to the left. I '11 remember." 

"Yes. And then, when you come to a sprmg, a 
mile or so farther on — a spring at the root of a 
beech-tree — don't go straight on past the spring, 



as the path seems to lead you ; turn, there, sharp 
up the bank. It will be something of a scramble, 
but you will strike a better path then that will 
take _vou up to a view of the South Valley, that 
they all sav is the finest view on the mountain. I 
missed it, but you don't want to." 

"No; of course not! Much obliged. Good 
morning !" 

"Good morning !" 

Such talk as that would be sensible enough, 
would it not? You would not object in the least 
to having me give you points, in that way, about 
the best path up the mountain. You would take 
mv word without hesitation. Well, those of us 
who are a little older have been up the mountain 
of life ahead of you, and we have got out of 
the path now and then, and have learned a great 
deal, by bitter e-N;perience, about right turnings 
and wrong turnings, about swamps and thickets 
and pitfalls and precipices; and we sometimes 
feel very anxious to give you, who are now on 
}'our way up, a few hints from our own experi- 
ence — warnings and directions that we know 
would be of use to you. And, though boys are 
sometimes headstrong and conceited, and think 
they know a great deal more about the road than 
their fathers and uncles and grandfathers ever 
knew, }'et most of them are sometimes willing to 
hear what we have to say, and are thankful to be 
told. I believe that you are wdlling, and, there- 
fore, I have stopped you for a few minutes at the 
foot of the mountain, to tell you some of the 
walks that I ivouhi n't take, and some of the roads 
that I would take, if I were going up again. 

I. If, then, I were a boy again, and knew what 
I know now, I would not be quite so positive in 
my opinions as I used to be. Boys generally think 
that they are very certain about many things. A 
boy of fifteen is a great deal more sure of what 
he thinks he knows than is a man of fifty. You 
ask the boy a question and he will answer you 
right off, up and down ; he knows all about it. 
Ask a man of large experience and ripe wisdom 
the same question, and he will say, "Well, there 
is much to be said about it. I am inclined, on the 
\\hole, to think so and so, but other intelligent 
men think otherwise." 

Y'hen I was eight years old I traveled from 
central Massachusetts to western New York, 
crossing the river at Albany, and going by canal 
from Schenectady to Syracuse. On the canal- 
boat a kindly gentleman was talking to me one 
day, and I mentioned the fact that I had crossed 
the Connecticut River at Albany. How I got it 
in my head that it was the Connecticut River I do 
not know, for I knew my geography very well 
then; but in some unaccountable way I had it 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FUR BOYS AND (;IRLS 



329 



fixed in niv mind that the river at Albany was the 
Connecticut, and I called it so. 

"Why," said the gentleman, "that is the Hud- 
son River." 

"Oh, no, sir!" I replied, politely, hut firnilw 
"You 're mistaken. That is the Connecticut 
River." 

The gentleman smiled and said no more. 1 was 
not much in the hahit, 1 think, of contradictinq- 
ray elders ; but in this matter, I was pcrfecth- sure 
that I was right, and so 1 thought it mv dut\- to 
correct the gentleman's geograpin-. I felt rather 
sorrv for him that he should be so ignorant, t )ne 
day, after I reached home, I was looking over mv 
route on the map, and lo ! there was Albanx' 
standing on the Hudson River, ,i hundred miles 
from the Connecticut. Then I did not feel half 
so sorrv for the gentleman's ignorance as I ilid 
for mv own. I never told anybody that story un- 
til I wrote it down on these pages the other day; 
but I have thought of it a thousand times, and 
always with a blush for my boldness. Xor was it 
the only time that I was perfectly sure of things 
that really were not so. It is hard for a boy to 
learn that he may be mistaken ; but. unless he is 
a fool, he learns it after a while. The sooner he 
finds it out, the better for him. 

2. If I were a bov, I would not think that I 
and the boys of mv time were exceptions to the 
general rule — a new kind of bo^-s, unlike all wdio 
have lived before, having different feelings and 
different wants, and requiring to be dealt with in 
different ways. That is a tone which I S'lmetinies 
hear boys taking. To be honest, I must own that 
I used to think so myself. I was quite inclined 
to reject the counsel of my elders by saying to 
myself, "That mav have been well enough for 
boys thirty or fifty years ago, but it i^ n't the 
thing for me and my set of boys." But that was 
nonsense. The boys of one generation are not 
different from the boys of another generation. If 
we say that boyhood lasts fifteen or sixteen years, 
I have now known three generations of boys, 
some of them city boys and some of them country 
boys, and they all are substantially alike — so nearly 
alike that the old rules of industry and patience 
and perseverance and self-control are as applica- 
ble to one generation as to another. The fact is, 
that what your fathers and teachers have found 
by experience to be good for boys will be good 
for you; and what their experience has taught 
them is bad for boys will be bad for you. You 
are just boys, nothing more nor less. 

3. If I were a boy, I would not speak disre- 
spectfully or contemptuously of or to a woman. 
Women and girls are different from men and 
boys; as a rule, they are not so strong physically; 



their ways of ihinking and of juilging are some- 
what dilTerenl from thnse of men; hut the\- may 
be different williout being inferior. The fact that 
they are dillereiit is no reason v, h\- \ou should 
ihink .if them slightingly nr treat them rudelv. 
I he nobler gentleman he is, the kss possil.ile it is 
for a man In think nr sjieak disrespectfully of 
Wdinaii. \'ou ha\'e read about the knights of chiv- 
alry and of the hoiieir they always paid to women ; 
the\- had rather far-fetched and fantastic ways of 
showing their respect, but the thing thev stood up 
for was the manly thing. And it I were a bov, 
I should want to be a chivalrems ljn\- in m\' treat- 
ment (.if women, and all the more if the woman 
were my sister or mv niother. Some time or 
other. m\' bo\', if \"ou live to be an old man, you 
will stand wdierc I have stood, at the grave of 
your mnther; and, if there is anv "man" in you, 
\'ou will be sorrv then fiir ever\' word of disre- 
spect \"iiu ha\-e c\'er sjieiken of a woman. 

4. I'or much tlie s;inie reasons, if I were a boy, 
I would ne\'er tease or abuse a smaller bo\' ; and I 
Would never ridicule any person, male or female, 
old or \-oung, because he or she was lame or de- 
formed or homely or awkwan.l or ill-dressed, or 
unfi.irtunate in ;in\- waw In fact. I do not believe 
tli;it real l.io\-s e\"er ilo anything i;if this sort. 

5. Another thing I would be careful about, if I 
were a Ijov, would be letting my love of fun lead 
me into trespassing upon other people's rights. 
BoA-s like a rousing good time, and they ought to 
have It; thev enjov making a noise, and they 
should have plent\- of chances to make a noise; 
hut the\- ought alwtiys to be careful lest their 
rough pleasure cause pain to some one else. That, 
\-ou sec, would lie sheer selfishness. I have seen 
boys carr\- lioisterous fun into places w^here 
evervbody but the boys wanted it kept orderly 
and quiet, so that the enjoyment of others was 
spoiled that the bovs might have a merry time. 
That is not fair play; and no thoughtful and 
manlv bov will want to have his fun at such ex- 
pense to the feelings of others. For this reason 
and for other reasons, if I were a boy, I would 
never play or whisper m any orderly public as- 
semblv, especially in a place of worship. I would 
be quiet and attentive and respectful always in 
praver time, and in every devotional exercise, be- 
cause I should remember that disorderly behavior 
at such times is not only irreverent, but that it is 
a great trespass upon the rights of others, who do 
no't wish to have their attention distracted by such 
disturbance.-^. 

6 If I were a bov, I would not he. I would 
suffer much before I would tell a falsehood or 
knowmglv make a statement which would convey 
a falsehood. I would take great care not to fall 



330 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



into the habit of misstating or overstating the 
truth — of telling big stories. I would feel that 
the bottom fact of character is truthfulness, and 
that a boy who has habits of untruthfulness, who 
has fallen into the way of deceiving or concealing 
or coloring his statements, is a boy who needs to 
put right about, or he will soon be on the rocks. 
A boy whose word is good for nothing is in a 
very critical condition. He would better pull him- 
self together and make up his mind very firmly 
to think twice before he speaks, and not to say 
a word that is not exactly true. 

7. n I were a boy, I would not use profane 
words or foul words of any sort. Boys some- 
times think it smart and manly to use bad lan- 
guage and to tell vile stories, but it is not. No 
gentleman ever defiles his lips in that way. 

8. If I were a boy, I would not read such books 
and newspapers as I sometimes see boys reading. 
Much of this reading furnished for boys is posi- 
tively bad— unclean, immoral, corrupting. I am 
told that books of this character are sometimes 
secreted and read stealthily; but the misguided 
and foul-minded fellows who could do a thing 
like this are not, I hope, enrolled among the seri- 
ous company of manly chaps who read these 
words. Many of the books and papers of which 
I am speaking are not vile, as a rule, but they are 
hurtful, nevertheless, to the minds and the morals 
of the boys who read them. I know boys who 
have read so much flashy fiction that they cannot 
take any sober and sensible views of life; they 
seem to have lost the power to study : they never 
read anything but fiction, and that of the lightest 
sort ; the most entertaining book of history or sci- 
ence is a bore to them; their minds are so feeble 
and so feverish that they are wholly unfitted for 
the work of life. If you want to keep your men- 
tal grip and your moral soundness, never abuse 
your minds by feeding them on this sensational 
fodder. 

9. If I were a boy, I would not use tobacco in 
any way. There are men who think it right to 
smoke, and I am not going to discuss the Cjuestion 
as respects men ; but whatever may be said of 
them, there is no intelligent man anywhere, 
whether he himself smokes or does not smoke, 
whether he thinks it right or wrong for men to 
smoke, who does not think it always wrong for a 
boy. It might be right for your father and utterly 
wrong for you. There is a great difference be- 
tween the eiTects of tobacco upon a growing per- 
son and its effects upon one who has got his 
growth. It hurts a growing boy a great deal more 
than it hurts a grown man. I have my doubts 
whether any one ever uses it habitually without 
being injured by it; but it is perfectly certain — 



all the doctors agree on this— that it is always 
injurious for boys. Here, for example, is the 
word of one doctor who thinks it no harm for 
some men to use it : "To young persons," he says, 
"under twenty-five years or so, tobacco, even in 
small quantities, is so apt to disorder heahh, in 
some way or other, that for such it should be 
considered generally harmful." 

10. For the same reason, if I were a boy, I 
would not drink beer or wine or any kind of 
alcoholic liquor. Here, too, there is a dispute 
among the doctors, some of them saying that men 
may sometimes drink wine or beer without harm; 
but here, too, they all are perfectly agreed that 
for boys such drinks are always harmful. A great 
many boys in this country are learning to drink 
beer. Some of them think that there is no harm 
in it. But in thousands of cases, it has brought 
a deadly train of misery along with it. It has 
crippled many a man's best powers; it has been 
the beginning of drunkenness and of blighted 
lives. And not only because of the probable harm 
to yourselves, but because of the trouble and pov- 
erty and sorrow that it causes all over the land, 
have nothing to do with it. 

I have used much of my time in telling you 
what I would not do if I were a boy; let me say 
a few words about what I would do. 

1. I would have a good time, if I could. I do 
not put this first because it is the main thing; 
nevertheless, it is an important thing. There are 
some little fellows who are not able to have a 
very good time. Sometimes a boy's father dies, 
or there is sickness and trouble in his family, and 
he is compelled to go to work in early boyhood, 
and to work hard all the time, with small chance 
for fun. When such a duty is laid upon a boy, of 
course he must do it, and if he is the right sort 
of fellow, he will do it bravely and cheerfully; 
many a boy has shown his manliness in this way. 
The courage and devotion of some boys whom I 
have known, in shouldering such burdens as 
these, are beyond all praise. But this is not the 
kind of life that we would choose for a boy. He 
ought to work, no matter what his circumstances 
may be ; he ought to spend in some useful way a 
considerable portion of his time out of school 
hours ; but then he ought to play, as well as to 
work ; to be a lively, merry, hearty lad. If I 
were a boy, I would be expert, if I could, at all 
right manly sports ; I would be glad to be the 
strongest, swiftest, jolliest fellow on the play- 
ground. But I would do my Vi'ork thoroughly 
first, and take my pastime afterward with a good 
conscience. 

2. I would have my outdoor fun, too, in the 
daytime, and stay at home in the evening. Home 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GH^LS 



331 



is the right place for boys in the evenings. The 
boy who stays at home evenings is not only saf- 
est, he is also happiest. The kinil of diversion he 
gets by roaming the streets of a city after dark 
is a kind that makes him restless and miserable ; 
it unfits him for any quiet and reposeful life. 
Now the truth is, boys, that it is just as necessary 
for vou to learn how to enjoy a quiet time, as it is 
to learn how to enjoy a noisy and exciting time; 
and evening is the time, and home is the place, 
for vou to cultivate this gentler part of your 
nature, the part that \\ill make ^-ou a gentleman. 
3. If I were a boy, I woidd consider it a large 
part of a boy's business to learn to work. Work 
is not naturally pleasant to many of us; the taste 
for it has to be acquired. Youth is the time to 
acquire it. You can learn to take a tough prob- 
lem in arithmetic, or an abstruse chapter in phy- 
sics, or a long Greek conjugation, and put every- 
thing else out of your mind, and think right at it, 
just as intentlv as if it were a ball game, until it 
is finished. You can learn to take any other diffi- 
cult and troublesome job, and fasten j'our thought 
and energv upon it, and do it thoroughly. This 
power of concentration and perseverance is one 
main thing to learn. Knowing wdiat I now know 
about life, I am sure that if I were a bov again. 



this woulil be one of the things that I should try 
hardest to learn. 

4. I Wdul.l learn, too, to obey. That is one of 
the manliest traits of character, after all — obedi- 
ence. It is wdiat makes a soldier. To be able 
pronqitly and cheerfull)' to conform to all rightful 
authority, to bend your will to the wills of those 
who are directing your work — this is a noble vir- 
tue. It is a great part of discipline to acquire it. 
The time to acquire it is boyho(5d. 

5. I would learn self-control. Boys are gener- 
ally creatures of impulse. Wdiat they feel like 
doing they are apt to rush ahead and do, without 
stopping to consider whether it is wise or not. In 
the craving for pleasure of one sort or another, 
they are not always \villing to hear reason. But, 
unless he is going to make shipwreck of life, 
every boy nnist learn to draw the rein, not only 
over temper, but over desire, and to say to him- 
self now and then, "Hold on! / 'm doing this, 
and I 'm not going to be a fool ; let 's see what is 
right and best before we go any further." The 
power to pull himself up in this way and use his 
reason and his judgment, instead of letting im- 
pulse determine his conduct, is a power that, if I 
were a boy again, I should begin to cultivate very 
earlv in life. 



IF I WERE A GIRL 



BY WASHINGTON GLADDEN 



It is n't so easy to tell what I would do if I were 
a girl. I don't remember the mistakes I made 
when I was a girl, nearly so well as I remember 
those that I made when I was a boy ; and there- 
fore I cannot tell what I would do if I had a 
chance now to try. Doubtless I should make a 
poor job of it. I fear that I should not succeed 
half so well as some that I know are succeeding. 
But there are girls and girls; and when I look 
about among those whom I know, I sometimes 
say to myself, "There ! if I were a girl I would n't 
do as that girl does"; and at other times, "There! 
if I were a girl I would like to be such a girl as 
that !" So I am going to give you the results of 
my observation of girls — some of the conclusions 
to which I have come in studying the ways of the 
girls themselves. 

I. First then, if I were a girl, I think I would 
be a girl; and I would n't wish or try to be a boy 
at all, or a woman even, until my time came. It 
is not uncommon for girls to think of what they 
would do if they were boys, and to wish that they 



were boys. They think that there is more of lib- 
erty and of opportunity for boys than for girls; 
they sometimes lament the misfortune of their 
birth. Of course this is extremely foolish. It is 
just like short people wishing they were tall or 
black people wishing that they were white; all 
such sighs are wasted breath, and worse than 
wasted ; they make us discontented and wretched. 
Y'ou are just wdiat the good Lord made you, and 
he makes no mistakes. If you become what he 
meant you to be, you will be as happy as your 
heart can hold. 

It is not so foolish for a girl to wish that she 
were a woman ; the song of "Seven-times Two" 
is the \-ery heart of a girl's heart: 

"I wish and I wish that the spring would go faster. 
Nor long summer bide so late, 
And I could grow on like the foxglove and aster, 
For some things are ill to wait." 

But, after all, that is one of the girl's longings 
that she must learn to curb. Womanhood will 



332 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



come soon enough; be girls as long as you can. 
And while you are girls don't put on the airs of 
young ladyhood; content yourself with licing just 
what you are. 

2. If I were a girl, I would take good care of 
my health. Health is as precious to a girl as to 
a boy, and more costly; she has to take more 
pains to get it and keep it. A woman's life in 
our time is not so favorable to health as a man's 
life is, and many are the women who become 
helpless and wretched through the loss of health. 
If you are to be well, strong, happy women (and 
you will not be happy unless you are well and 
strong) you must begin in your girlhood to take 
good care of your health. You must sit up 
straight when you study or read ; you must eat 
plain and wholesome food ; you must cut out 
most of the dopes and sweets ; you must take 
abundant exercise in the fresh air; you must 
wear warm, loose, comfortable clothing; you 
must be early in bed. You cannot understand 
the value of thes^ things now, but if you expect 
life to be worth anything to you by and by you 
must attend to them now. 

3. The kind of girl I should like to be does n't 
parade too much in public places. I know a good 
many girls — some of them pretty nice girls, too, — 
who are on exhibition on the public streets much 
more than is good for them. They expose them- 
selves thus to rude treatment and the vulgar gaze, 
and see much more of the world than it is worth 
while for them to see. 

4. My model girl is always quiet in her deport- 
ment. She is n't the least bit loud in dress or man- 
ners or forms of expression. She is careful, for 
one thing, to cultivate a gentle voice. She is n't 
given to shouting, in the streets or anywhere 
else. I hear a good many loud women in this 
country wherever I go — some who are thought to 
be ladies, too — and I don't like to hear them. A 
person who lifts up her voice in that way, on the 
porch, or in the street-car, or in the store, so that 
everybody looks that way, may be a very estima- 
ble person, but if I were going to be a girl I 
would n't be that kind. 

5. The girl I should like to be does n't think a 
great deal about dress, or parties, or fashionable 
society. She likes to be prettily dressed, of 
course ; she would n't like to be a spectacle, on 
account of the slovenliness or the dowdiness of 
her attire; but she thinks much less of her gar- 
ments than she does of many other things. She 
does n't judge people by their clothes, nor does 
she feel that it is a greater disgrace to wear an 
unfashionable hat than to recite a slipshod lesson 
or perform an unkind act or tell a lie. 

I am sorry to say that there are a good many 



girls with whom dress has become the principal 
interest of life. Some of them I do not blame at 
all. I do not see how they can help themselves. 
They have been trained, from babyhood, to put 
this first; their mothers began to bedeck them 
with finery in their cradles, and as soon as they 
were old enough to talk they heard their dresses 
praised by silly women who told them how sweet 
they looked and filled their heads with this kind 
of vanity; all their lives long it has been the lead- 
ing subject of conversation in such society as 
they have had, and if, in such an atmosphere, 
they have grown up to think more of dress than 
of anything else in the world, who can blame 
them? If any of you have been brought up in 
that way, all I can say is, I am sorry for you. I 
hope that somebody will be able some day to give 
you a better idea of what is really worth while. 

6. Nor would I wish to be one of those girls 
who devote a large part of life to parties and 
plays and shows and society diversions. Into that 
whirl a sensible girl will not plunge. If she has 
a sensible mother she will not be permitted to do 
it. To many of the older ones it is ruinous; to a 
growing girl it is fatal. Health, mental vigor, 
moral soundness, are all undermined by the social 
dissipation into which too many of our young 
girls are permitted to rush. 

7. If I were a girl and knew what I now know 
about the future that lies before the majority of 
our girls, I would make the best possible use of 
the opportunities of storing and training my mind. 
School-days are of more importance to girls than 
to boys. There are exceptions, on both sides, but 
as a general rule a man's opportunities in after 
life of mental cultivation and training are better 
than a woman's. So much the more reason is 
there that girls should make the best use of their 
school-time. As a general rule they do; their 
rank, in the high schools, is apt to be higher than 
that of the boys. 

8. There is one art that I am sure I should 
want to learn if I were a girl, and that is the fine 
art of home-making— how to make home com- 
fortable and beautiful and happy— that is the one 
art that every girl ought to learn. It is n't every 
woman who has a home, of course, but most wo- 
men do; the great majority of you, girls, will 
have homes of your own, sometime. If your 
home is what it ought to be, what you ought to 
make it, you will never have anything worth more, 
nor anything which will give you half so much 
pleasure. I do not mean simply that you ought to 
learn to be housekeepers ; housekeeping in the 
ordinary sense is a mechanical art; this, of which 
I speak, is at once a fine art and a divine voca- 
tion. The material part is important; you will 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUCiHTS FOR BOVS AND GIRLS 33j^ 

need to understand that; but not every one who kind of arl, as indeed cver\' otlier, demands of 

can cook and do marketing and keep (lie lurinture vou, first of all, a pure and noble character. You 

dusted, and manage the finances eeonnnncally is a camiot make a thing as fine as a g(j()(l Iionie unless 

good home-maker. After these things are learned \iiu arc a g 1 woman. Xnr can ^-()U do any 

you have to learn how to make the home beauli- nlher kind (if gnod wi.rk well unless \'on, the doer, 
ful and wdnsome in its locf^ : how to order its Ii le ba\e ni \ nurself the goodness that the work ought 
so that all shall go on swcetl)- and snioothl\- ; Imw in p,,ssess. f'coplc snmetinies ask 30U wdicn you 
to fill it with pleasantness and cheerfulness; Imw are slud\ing what \ mu .art' going to make nf \our- 
to bring into it wdiolesome diversions: Imw to selves; Irll them that bv <iod's grace you arc go- 
connect it with other homes, of like iKitnre, so iiig to imikc of yoiirseUes WMiiien ; not mere wri- 
that the gracious influences of pure and Iiapp\' ters of \-er-e or painters cjf pictures or workers 
households shall flow from one to another enrich- in worsted or sellers (d' pur]ile or wearers of ap- 
ing all; how to blend the li\-es of its iiimales parel, or teachers of arithmetic or keepers of 
with one pervading spirit of liarmoii\- and iieace. houses, but women, such as tiod meant you to be, 
You do not all understand me, girls, but you will divine in the gracious dignit\- and beaut}- of your 
by and bv : I hope that you will all conic to know ch.aracters, with \\ell-stored and well-trained 
that it is a great thing to make a beautiful and minds, with sound health and clear judgment, 
happy home. Xo greater acliKwement is po.■^sible with habits of self-reliance, with all your wo- 
for man or woman. manly nature fully developed, fiere is a picture 
Come with me to this home which I see; the for }-ou to keep before your eves of what I trust 
curtain is lifted, we can look in. Is n't it a pietty \'ou will want to make of vourselves — an old pic- 
place? Thev are sitting around the evening lamp ; tnre, but who can show a fairer one? 
thev are filled with the spirit of comfort and crood ,.r , 

1 ■-' I saw her u['on nearer \ ilw, 

cheer; the bond that binds them together ami tiiat A Spirit, yrt a "Woman too! 

binds them to this place is the strongest liond Her houSL-hold motions Htjht and free, 

that earth knows anything about ; oh bow it will ^nd steps of virgin liberty; 

, . 1 1 ' ,'" , 1 ,-1 A countenance m which did meet 

tug at their hearts bv and by when some of them g^^.^^.^ ^^^^^^^^ promises as sweet ; 

are far away ! Is n t it a lo\ely picture ? \\ bo is a Creature not too bright or good 

the artist? There she is — that woman sitting For human nature's daily food ; 

there-wife and mother. If she had painted a For transient sorrow.s, simple wiles, 

..,j .. . ^ Praise, bl.'ime, ]o\'e, kisses, tears, ami smiles. 

fair landscape, it she had written a fine poem her 

praises would be in the mouths of men; but is "And now I see wdth eye serene 

there any painting on the walls of the great T*"^ '^"^J"'''!"^ 'I'f "''T.'l'"i',; »i 

.-^*. . - A Being breathing thoughtful breath, 

Academy inore beautiful than that? Is there any A Traveler between life and death: 

poem in any of the books half so sweet as that The reason firm, the temperate will, 

song of "Home, sweet h(,me," that sings itself Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill ; 

;„ i„ .1 r r- 1 ii 4.1 r , 1 1 ■ 4 f A perfect Woman, nobly planned, 

into the ear of God as the utterance ot the lite of „ ' , r ^ a\.^.„„,.,„a ■ 

To warn, to comfort, and conimand , 

many a quiet woman ? And yet a Spirit still, and bright 

9. Finally, I trust you will remember that this With something of angelic light." 



THE LIFE BEYOND 

ALL FOR IMMORTALITY muse upon their favored loveliness? AVhy is it 

that the stars wdio bold their festival around the 

BY EDWARD iiULWER-LYTTON midnight throne, are set aliove the grasp of our 

I CANNOT believe that earth is man's abiding- limited faculties, forever mockmg us with their 

place. It can't be that our life is east up by the unapproachable glorv? And, finally, wdiy is it 

ocean of eternity tc float a moment upon its that bright forms of liuman beauty are presented 

waves, and then sink into nothingness: else, why to our view, and then taken from us, leaving the 

is it that the glorious aspirations which leap like thousand streams id' our aflection to flow back in 

angels from the temple of our heart are forever Alpine torrents upon our heart? We are born 

wandering about unsatisfied? Why is it that the for a higher destiny than that of earth: there is a 

rainbow and clouds come over with a beauty that realm where the rainbow never fa.le.s, where the 

is not of earth, and then pass off, and leave us to stars will be spread before us like islands that 



334 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



slumber on the ocean ; and where the benigs that 
pass before us like shadows will stay in our pres- 
ence forever. 



THE HEAVENTA' HOME 

EY THOMAS GUTHRIE 

"Home" — oh, how sweet is that word! VVhat 
beautiful and tender associations cluster thick 
around it ! Compared with it, house, mansion, 
palace, are cold, heartless terms. But "home!" 
that word quickens the pulse, warms the heart, 
stirs the soul to its depths, makes age feel young 
again, rouses apathv into energy, sustains the 
sailor in his midnight watch, inspires the soldier 
with courage on the field of battle, and imparts 
patient endurance to the worn-down sons of toil. 
The thdught of it has proved a sevenfold shield 
to virtue; the very name of it has been a spell to 
call back the wanderer from the paths of vice. 
And far away, where myrtles bloom and palm- 
trees wave, and the ocean sleeps upon coral 
strands, to the exile's fond fancy it clothes the 
naked rock, or stormy shore, or barren moor, or 
wild highland mountain, with charms he weeps to 
think of, and longs once more to see. 

Grace sanctifies these lovely affections, and im- 
parts a sacredness to the homes of earth by mak- 
ing them types of heaven. As a home the be- 
liever delights to think of it. Thus, when lately 
bending over a d\'ing saint, and expressing our 
sorrow to see him lie so low, with the radiant 
countenance rather of one who had just left 
heaven than of one about to enter it, he raised 
and clasped his hands, and exclaimed in ecstasy, 
"/ am going home." 



Rather let us believe that he who, in his appar- 
ent prodigality, wastes not the raindrop, the blade 
of grass, or the evening's sighing zephyr, but 
makes them all to carry out his eternal plans, has 
given immortality to the mortal, and gathered to 
himself the spirits of our friends. Instead of 
mourning, let us look up and address our departed 
in the words of the poet : 



"Thy day has come, not gone ; 
Thy sun has risen, not set ; 
Thy life is now beyond 
The reach of death or change. 
Not ended — but begun. 
O noble soul ! O gentle heart ! Hail, and farewell." 



IF I SHOULD DIE TO-NIGHT 

i;y belle e. smith 

If I should die to-night. 
My friends would look upon my quiet face 
Before they laid it in its resting-place, 
And deem that death had left it almost fair; 
And, laying snow-white flowers against my hair, 
Would smooth it down with tearful tenderness, 
And fold my hands with lingering caress — 
Poor hands, so empty and so cold to-night ! 

If I should die to-night. 
My friends would call to mind, with loving 

thought. 
Some kindly deed the icy hands had wrought; 
Some gentle word the frozen lips had said; 
Errands on which the willing feet had sped ; 
The memory of my selfishness and pride. 
My hasty words, would all be put aside. 
And so I should be loved and mourned to-night. 



IMMORTAL LIFE 

BY WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN 

If the Father deigns to touch with divine power 
the cold and pulseless heart of the buried acorn, 
and make it to burst forth from its prison walls, 
will he leave neglected in the earth the soul of 
man, who was made in the image of his Creator? 
If he stoops to give to the rose-bush, whose with- 
ered blossoms float upon the breeze, the sweet 
assurance of another springtime, will he withhold 
the words of hope from the sons of men when the 
frosts of winter come? If matter, mute and in- 
animate, though changed by the forces of nature 
into a multitude of forms, can never die, will the 
imperial spirit of man suffer annihilation after it 
has paid a brief visit, like a royal guest, to this 
tenement of clay? 



If I should die to-night. 
Even hearts estranged would turn once more to 

me. 
Recalling other days remorsefully ; 
The eyes that chill me with averted glance 
Would look upon me as of yore, perchance. 
And soften, in the old familiar way; 
For who could war with dumb, unconscious clay? 
So I might rest, forgiven of all, to-night. 

Oh, friends, I pray to-night. 
Keep not your kisses for my dead, cold brow — 
The way is lonely; let me feel them now. 
Think gently of me; I am travel-worn; 
My faltering feet are pierced with many a thorn 
Forgive, oh, hearts estranged, forgive, I plead ! 
When dreamless rest is mine I shall not need 
The tenderness for which 1 long to-night. 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR ROYS AND GIRLS 
0\-ER THE Rn-1=;R THERE LS NO DEATH 



335 



BY NAXCY WOOnr.URY I'RIEST 

Over the river tlie\- beckon to inc. 

Loved ones who ^•c crossed to the farther side. 
The sleam of their siiow)- robes 1 see, 

But their \-oiees are lost in the dashint;' tide. 
There 's one with ringlets of sunn\- .i^old. 

And eves the reflection of heaven's own blue; 
He crossed in the twilight gra\" and cold. 

And the pale mist hid hini from mortal view. 
\\'e saw not the angels who met him there, 

The gates of the city \vc could not sec : 
Over the river, over the ri\-er. 

]\Iv brother stands waiting to welcome me. 

Over the river the boatman pale 

Carried another, the household pet ; 
Her brown curls waved in the gentle gale. 

Darling ^linnie ! I see her yet. 
She crossed on her bosom her dimpled hands. 

And fearlesslv entered the phantom bark ; 
We felt it glide from the siK-er sands. 

And all our sunshine grew strangel}- dark; 
We know she is safe on the farther side, 

Where all the ransomed and angels be : 
Over the river, the m^'stic ri\'er. 

My childhood's idol is waiting for me. 

For none return from those quiet shores. 

Who cross with the boatman cold and pale ; 
\\'e hear the dip of the goUen oars. 

And catch a gleam of the snowv sail; 
And lo ! they have passed from our \earning 
hearts, 

They cross the stream and are gone for aye. 
We may not sunder the veil apart 

That hides from our vision the gates of day; 
\A e only know that their barks no more 

ilay sail with us o'er life's stormv sea; 
Yet somewhere, I know, on the unseen shore. 

They watch, and beckon, and wait for me. 

And I sit and think, wdien the sunset's gold 

Is flushing river and Inll and shore, 
I shall one day stand by the water cold. 

And list for the sound of the boatman's oar; 
I shall watch for a gleam of the flapping sail. 

I shall hear the boat as it gains the strand, 
I shall pass from sight wdth tlie boatman pale. 

To the better shore of the spirit land. 
I shall know the loved wdio ha\-e gone before, 

And joyfully sweet wdll the meeting be, 
When over the river, the peaceful river, 

The angel of death shall carry me. 



I;Y J AMK.S I,. M (RI-,EKY 

TiiKRE is no de.'itb ! the stars go down 

111 rise upnn some other shore. 
.\nd bright in hea\'en's jeweled crijwn 
ddie_\' shine for evermore. 

1 here is no death ! the forest leaves 
I'nnxL-rt to life the \'iewless air; 

Tiie rocks disorganize to feed 
d he bungr\- moss thev bear. 

There is no death ! the dust we tread 

Shall change, beneath the summer showers, 

To golden grain, or mellow fruit, 
Or rainbow-tinted flowers. 

There is no death ! the leaves mav fall. 

Idle flowers mav fade and pass awa\' — 
Idiey nnly wait, through wintrv hours, 

ddie warm, sweet breath of ^lav. 

ddiere is no death ! tlie choicest gifts 
ddiat heaven hath kindl_\- lent to earth 

Are e\'er first to seek again. 
The countrv of their birth. 

And all things that for growth of joy 
y\re worthv of our love or care, 

Wdiose loss has left us desolate, 
Are safelv garnered there. 

Though life l.iecome a dreary waste. 

\\"e know its fairest, sweetest flowers, 
Transplanted into paradise, 

Adorn immortal bowers. 

The \-oice of bird-like melody. 

That we have missed and mourned so long. 
Now mingles with the angel choir 

In everlasting song. 

There is no death ! although we grieve 

Wdieii beautiful, familiar forms 
That we ha\e learned to lo\-e are torn 

]~rcim our embracing arms ; 

Although wdth bowed and breaking heart. 
With sable garb and silent tread. 

We l.iear their senseless dust to rest, 
And sa\- that the)' are "dead"; 

Thev are not dead I they have but passed 
L.e\-ond the mists that blind us here 

Into the new and larger life 
Of that serener sphere. 



336 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR feOYS AND GIRLS 



They have hut dropped their rohe of clay 
To put their shining raiment on ; 

They have not wandered far away — 
They are not "lost" or "gone." 

Though disenthralled and glorified, 
They still are here and love us yet; 

The dear ones they have left behind 
They never can forget. 

And sometimes, when our hearts grow faint 
Amid temptations fierce and deep. 

Or when the wildly raging waves 
Of grief or passion sweep, 

We feel upon our fevered brow 

Their gentle touch, their breath of balm; 
Their arms enfold us, and our hearts 

Grow comforted and calm. 

And ever near us, though unseen, 
The dear, immortal spirits tread; 

For all the boundless universe 
Is life — there are no dead. 



LIFE 

BY SIR JOHN BOWRING 

If all our hopes and all our fears 

Were prisoned in life's narrow bound; 
If, travelers through this vale of tears. 

We saw no better world beyond ; 
Oh, what could check the rising sigh ? 

What earthly thing could pleasure give? 
Oh, who would venture then to die? 

Oh, who could then endure to live ? 

Were life a dark and desert moor. 

Where mists and clouds eternal spread 
Their gloomy veil behind, before. 

And tempests thunder overhead ; 
Where not a sunbeam breaks the gloom. 

And not a floweret smiles beneath ; 
Who could exist ui such a tomb ? 

Who dwell in darkness and in death ? 

And such were life, without the ray 

From our divine religion given ; 
'Tis fhis that makes our darkness day ; 

'Tis this that makes our earth a heaven. 
Bright is the golden sun above, 

And beautiful the flowers that bloom, 
And all is joy, and all is love, 

Reflected from a world to come. 



"ONLY WAITING" 



BY FRANCES L. M.\CE 



[A very aged man in an almshouse was asked wli.-ii he 
was doing now. He replied, "Only waiting."] 

Only waiting till the shadows 

Are a little longer grown, 
Only waiting till the glimmer 

Of the day's last beam is flown; 
Till the night of earth is faded 

From the heart, once full of day; 
Till the stars of heaven are breaking 

Through the twilight soft and gray. 

Only waiting till the reapers 

Have the last sheaf gathered home. 
For the summer-time is faded. 

And the autumn winds have come. 
Quickly, reapers ! gather quickly 

The last ripe hours of my heart, 
For the bloom of life is withered, 

And I hasten to depart. 

Only waiting till the angels 

Open wide the mystic gate. 
At whose feet I long have lingered, 

Weary, poor, and desolate. 
Even now I hear the footsteps, 

And their voices far away; 
If they call me I am waiting, 

Only waiting to obey. 

Only waiting till the shadows 

Are a little longer grown, 
Only waiting till the glimmer 

Of the day's last beam is flown. 
Then, from out the gathered darkness, 

Holy, deathless stars shall rise, 
By whose light my soul shall gladly 

Tread its pathway to the skies. 



NEARER HOME 

BY PHCEBE CARY 

One sweetly solemn thought, 
Comes to me o'er and o'er; 

I am nearer home to-day 

Than I ever have been before; 

Nearer my Father's house, 

Where the many mansions be; 

Nearer the great white throne, 
Nearer the crystal sea; 



SERMONS AND SEED-THOUGHTS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



337 



Nearer the hound of life. 

\\'liere we lay our burdens down ; 
Nearer Iea\ing' the cross. 

Nearer gaining the crown ! 

But lying darkly between. 

\\"inding down through the night. 
Is the silent, unknown stream. 

That leads at last to the light. 

Closer and closer my steps 
Come to the dread abysm : 

Closer Death to my lips 
Presses the awful chrism. 

Oh, if my mortal feet 

Have almost gained the brink; 
If it he I am nearer home. 

Even to-day, than I think ; 

Father, perfect my trust : 
Let my spirit feel, in death. 

That her feet are firmly set 
On the rock of a living faith I 



Dost look upon the earth, 

Asleep in night's embrace; 
Tell me, in all thy roimd 

Hast thou not seen some spot 
Where miserable man 

]\Lay find a happier lut? 
Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in woe. 
And a voice, sweet but sad, responded — "No." 

Tell me. my secret soul. 

Oh. tell me, Hope and Faith, 
Is there no resting-place 

From sorrow, sin, and death? 
Is there no happy spot 

Where mortals may be blest. 
Where grief may find a balm. 

And weariness a rest? 
Faith, ilope, and Love, best boons to mortals 

given, 
Waved their bright wings, and whispered — "Yes, 
in heaven I" 



THE PURE IN HEART SHALL 
MEET AGAIN 



TELL ME, YE ^^TNG£D WINDS 

BY CH.\RLES MACKAY 

Tell me, ye winged winds. 

That round my pathway roar, 
Do ye not know some spot 

Where mortals weep no more ? 
Some lone and pleasant dell, 

Some valley in the west. 
Where, free from toil and pain. 

The weary soul may rest ? 
The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low. 
And sighed for pity as it answered — "No." 

Tell me. thou mighty deep. 

Whose billows round me play, 
Know'st thou some favored spot, 

Some island far away, 
Where weary man may find 

The bliss for which he sighs — 
Where sorrow never lives, 

And friendship never dies? 
The loud waves, rolling in perpetual flow, 
Stopped for a while, and sighed to answer— "No.' 

And thou, serenest moon, 
That, with such lovely face, 



BY WILLIAM Li;r,r;ETT 

If von bright orbs which gem the night, 

Be each a blissful dwelling-sphere. 
Where kindred spirits reunite, 

Whom death hath torn asunder here — 
How sweet it were at once to die. 

And leave this dreary world afar— 
Meet soul with soul, and cleave the sky. 

And soar away from star to star ! 

But oh, how dark, how drear, how lone. 

Would seem the brightest world of bliss, 
If, wandering through each radiant one. 

We fail to find the loved of this ! 
If there no more the ties shall twine, 

That death's cold hand alone can sever. 
Ah I then those stars in mockery shine. 

More hateful as they shine forever. 

It cannot be: each hope, each fear. 

That lights the eye. or clouds the brow, 
Proclaims there is a happier sphere 

Than this bleak world that holds us now. 
There is a voice which sorrow hears. 

When heaviest weighs life's galling chain; 
'Tis Heaven that wdiispers, "Dry thy tears. 

The pure in heart shall meet again." 



^ 



BIBLE STORIES FOR 
OLDER CHILDREN 

THE BIRTH OF CHRISTIANITY 



The resurrection was the birth of Christianity. 
With the death of Jesus, nay, even with his arrest 
in the Garden of Gethseinane, the httle flock he 
had gathered about him to spread his teaching 
scattered in fear and panic. The disciples of 
Jesus all forsook him and fled. The devout wo- 
men, who loved him tenderly, witnessed his tragic 
death from afar. Jesus died in absolute loneli- 
ness. 

These followers of Jesus had believed that he 
would perform some extraordinary miracle, and 
subdue not only Rome, but perhaps the whole 
earth. Perhaps they did not believe in this mi- 
raculous triumph with any enthusiasm, or with 
any certainty of its occurrence; but it was a hope 
struggling in their minds. His meekness under 
arrest was a terrible blow to their faith. The vic- 
tory of the priests was a terrible blow to their 
courage. The death of Jesus was the death of 
their hope. 

Let us make ourselves sure of this state of 
things. Unless we realize in all its truth the de- 
sertion of Jesus, and the panic and despair of his 
disciples, we shall not be able to feel the chief 
proof of his resurrection. That proof is the birth 
of Christianity. It is impossible for us to think 
that the panic-stricken disciples, after the igno- 
ininious death of their Master, would suddenly 
stand boldlv before men and preach the message 
that had brought him to the cross, as they had 
never hitherto preached it, unless they had re- 
ceived some convincing proof that he was more 
than man. 

Christianity could not have been born in the 
shadow of the cross, unless Jesus had triumphed 
over death. 

We find these poor, frightened disciples trans- 
formed suddenly into burning missionaries of 
Christ. We find them forming themselves into 
an assembly or brotherhood, making rules for the 
membership of this society, and sending men 



across the world with the message of the crucified 
Jesus. Instead of fleeing in despair from Jerusa- 
lem, it was in that very priest-ridden city that 
they formed their society, and taught that Jesus 
had risen from the dead. The Peter who denied 
that he knew Jesus in the courtyard of the high 
priest's palace was foremost, after the death of 
that Jesus, in establishing Christianity. In fact, 
all the disciples, except Judas Iscariot, who had 
destroyed himself, became, after the death of 
their Master, far more sure of the truth of his 
teaching, far more courageous in their preaching 
of it, than they had been during his lifetime. It 
was not while they half hoped and half believed 
that Jesus would triumph over his enemies, and 
reign in glory, that these disciples were earnest 
and enthusiastic teachers of his Gospel. No; it 
was after his death, after his defeat, after what 
they thought to be his faihtre and their own most 
bitter disappointment. 



THE BIRTH OF CHRISTIANITY IN THE 
SHADOW OF THE CROSS 

This birth of Christianity in the shadow of the 
cross is tlie miracle of historv. We can under- 
stand it only if we accept the written tradition 
that Jesus appeared to his disciples after death. 

And let us think for a moment of his command 
that they should wait in Jerusalem until they were 
endued "with power from on high." He had 
said to them; "My Father is greater than I." He 
now told them, even in his risen state, that they 
were to receive power from God. He himself did 
not venture to bestow that power. The humility 
of Christ, the fact that this humility is set down 
by those who were his first worshipers, convinces 
us how true, how real is the narrative. Nothing 
in the whole Bible is set down more earnestly 
than the appearance of Jesus after his death. 



338 



BIBLE STORIES EOR OLDER CHILDREN 



Remember that these plain and rustic men, spe- 
cially chosen by Jesus, lived in days when lan- 
guage was simple. They knew ^■ery few of the 
words which people use now when they quarrel 
with each other as to what was the exact nature 
of Jesus. We notice that most of those worths are 
very long, and that even when their meanings are 
explained to us, they leave us more or less in 
darkness. \\'e may learn them by heart, ^^'e may 
recite them. We may sa}- : "Tliis is what J be- 
lieve." But, if we do not understand them, how 
can we be really sure that we know what we be- 
lieve concerning Jesus ? It is better for us to go 
back to the disciples, and see what it was that 
they believed as to the cliaracter of their Master. 

An English writer has drawn up a number of 
statements concerning Jesus which are all to be 
proved out of St. Mark's Gospel, the earliest writ- 
ten record, which we will set down here in as 
simple language as we can. As we grow older, 
we must read these interesting statements for 
ourselves in their own language. We shall find 
them in a book called "Ecce Homo" (Rehold the 
Man), one of the most beautiful and lasting books 
ever written concerning Jesus. 



WHAT THE DISCIPLES CERTAINLY 
KNEW ABOUT THEIR MASTER 

Now, these facts are what the disciples knew for 
certain about Jesus : 

1. He assumed a position of authority. Al- 
though he was a carpenter, he set himself above 
the professional teachers of religion ; he made 
himself a greater teacher than the doctors of di- 
vinity. 

2. He claimed again and again that he was the 
King of whom the prophets had long prophesied. 
This claim was definite. It was not a figure of 
speech, such as "I am the vine." He died for the 
fact of it. He did not die for a metaphor. 

3. As the promised King, he claimed some mys- 
tic and special dignity for himself. 

4. He would not accept the teaching of the 
priests. He read and interpreted the Scriptures 
for himself. When he was rebuked for not obey- 
ing the law of Moses concerning the Sabbath, he 
replied with a sublime sentence : "The Sabbath 
was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath." 

5. He claimed the power to forgive sins. 

6. He called a number of men to attach them- 
selves to his person. He said : "Come unto me." 
He gave certain plain and simple rules to this 
society. His name was their bond of union. He 
made it clear to them that this society would con- 
tinue after his death. He foresaw his death, and 



339 

planned for the continuance of his society after 
death. 

7. His disciples believed that he worked mira- 
cles. This is absolutely certain. They tell of a 
certain occasion wdien he failed to work mira- 
cles. If they had been attempting to prove that 
he was a wonder-worker, they certainly would 
not have set down this occasion of failure. 

THE TEACHING OE JESUS ABOUT 
KINGSHIP AND GOODNESS 

S. His miracles were chiefly miracles of healing. 

9. Although he gathered the first members of 
his society from the Jews, he told them that it 
was to embrace the Gentiles, that is, the foreign 
nations, as well. 

10. Although he declared himself emphatically 
to be the expected King, he refused to undertake 
any of the ordinary duties discharged by kings. 
He gave his discijiles a new idea of kingship, 
something that was inward and spiritual. 

11. He required from his disciples personal de- 
votion : he taught them to follow his example in 
ruling their lives. 

12. He spoke to them of a Holy Spirit as di- 
recting his life, and said that this same Holy 
Spirit, if they followed his example, would direct 
(heir lives also. 

13. He taught \-ery earnestly that .good feelin,gs 
are more important than good deeds. He made 
his disciples see that a bad man may do a good 
deed, or that a good man may do a good deed, and 
yet lack something. He made them see that a 
good deed, to be perfectly beautiful, must flow 
from a heart filled with good feelings. 

THE THINGS THAT JESUS EXPECTED 
IN HIS EOLLOWERS 

14. He also demanded that his followers should 
do acts of extraordinary virtue. They were not 
to stop at doing what they had to do. But they 
must do more than they had to do. It must be a 
deli,ght to them to love those they were not 
obliged to love, to give to those they were not ob- 
liged to give to, and to help those they were not 
obli,ged to help. 

15. Lie condemned all morality aTid all good- 
ness which was not inward and spiritual. A man 
who gave alms as a duty, or wdio worshiped in the 
temple because it was the custom, or who said his 
prayers to lie seen and praised by others, was con- 
demned by Jesus as a hypocrite. Jesus expressed 
.great and exceeding scorn for people who were 
mechanically good. 



340 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



i6. By these teachings, and by claiming to be 
the King, he incurred the deadly hatred of the 
scribes and Pharisees. 

17. He required his disciples to desire the wel- 
fare of their fellow-creatures, and declared in 
beautiful language that this was his own desire, 
his own purpose in the world. "The Son of man 
came not to be ministered unto, but to minister." 

18. Accordingly, he went much among sick peo- 
ple, healing them, sometimes with strong signs of 
emotion. 

19. He commanded his disciples to follow this 
example of healing the sick. 

20. He spent much of his time curing moral 
disease. He was the Good Physician of the worst 
people, the dregs, the scum, the outcasts of soci- 
ety. He went to those whom the religious lead- 
ers ignored, and the rest of the world despised. 

21. He taught the forgiveness of injuries. 



THE CHARjM of THE CHARACTER OF 
JESUS THAT DREW MEN TO HIM 

If we read these twenty-one statements with un- 
derstanding, we shall have a workable idea of 
what Christ was to the disciples who first preached 
his Gospel. But there is one thing we lack in this, 
and that is the charm, the compelling sweetness 
of Christ. No statement can give us that. We 
begin to obtain some twilight glimmering of that 
charm when we consider how he attracted men, 
men of a rough kind, such as fishermen accus- 
tomed to the most dangerous kind of work; how 
he attracted them, drew them to him, so that they 
forsook their homes, and followed him in his 
strange and wandering life. And we gradually 
acquire, by reading about him, thinking about 
him, and trying to live as he asks us to live, a 
love for Christ that reveals to us what no words 
can reveal : his inexpressible sweetness and 
charm. 

We must not leave out of count the charm of 
Christ's personality in considering the birth of 
Christianity. If we might add one more to the 



twenty-one statements, this should be the twenty- 
second: "The disciples loved their Master." 

The love of men for a man is something rare, 
wonderful, almost divine. 

THE DISCIPLES THOUGHT THAT JESUS 
WOULD QUICKLY RETURN 

The disciples, assured now that he was indeed 
the promised Christ, began to preach his Gospel. 
They had no time then to write down their stories 
about him, their reminiscences of Christ; and, un- 
fortunately, they labored under one terrible and 
disastrous misapprehension. In one thing they 
had not realized the truth of what Christ told 
them. They believed that he would come speedily 
to earth again, and set up his eternal throne. 

This mistake on the part of the disciples is re- 
sponsible for the lateness of the written Gospels; 
they felt that there was no need to write, be- 
cause, before that generation had passed away, 
Christ would come again. They had little enough 
time to preach and convert the world. 

But this mistake, which we must ever deplore, 
was perhaps responsible for the magnificent cour- 
age with which those men — that little band of 
humble, simple provincials — created the Christian 
religion in the shadow of the cross. They knew 
no fear. Nothing that the world could do fright- 
ened their souls. Everything appeared paltry ex- 
cept Christ. 

The activity of commerce, the enthusiasm of 
art, the gossip and tattle of the streets — these 
things were as dust to them. They had seen and 
spoken with a man risen from the dead. A risen 
spirit had assured them that prophecy was at last 
fulfilled. The end of the world had come upon 
them. Christ was risen from the dead. The 
King had come. Soon, very soon, the power of 
God would be made manifest to all nations, and 
to all peoples, throughout the whole world. 

So our first view of Christianity is the spectacle 
of these earnest and loving disciples preaching 
Christ's Gospel with the assurance that the end 
of the world had come. 



PETER AND JOHN AT THE GATE BEAUTIFUL 



Before our Lord ascended to his throne of glory 
he had promised his disciples that he would not 
leave them without consolation, but would send 
a Comforter' to them. The Comforter was the 
Holy Spirit of God, which entered into their 
hearts and whispered such sweet and encouraging 



words to them that, even when their faith was 
sorely tried by the cruelty and persecution of the 
enemies of Christ, their courage never faltered. 
They had chosen another disciple to take the 
place of Judas, and upon the day of Pentecost, as 
they were all sitting together, they suddenly heard 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



341 



the sound of a rushing, mighty wind. And there 
appeared cloven tongues of fire, which hovered 
above each one of them. 

And immediately they found that they were 
able to speak in many different languages. God 
had sent his Holy Spirit to bestow this gift upon 
his disciples, because he wished them to be able 
to teach the Gospel to the people of every nation, 
which they could not have done had thev only 
been able to speak their own language. 

There were a great number of Jews at Jerusa- 
lem who had been born and brought up in differ- 
ent countries, and when the^' heard the strange 
miracle which had been worked upon the disciples 
they came to find out if it were true. 

The disciples were able to speak to all these 
people in the language each understood best, and 
Peter stood up, and, after telling them how this 
change had been worked in them, he went on to 
speak to them of Jesus. He reminded them of 
the good deeds Jesus had done during his life on 
earth, and the cruel, wicked manner in which his 
kindness had been repaid. He told them of 
Christ's resurrection and ascension, and before 
he had finished speaking many of these Jews were 
so moved by Peter's words that they came and 
begged to be baptized and received into the 
Church of Christ. 

Jesus had given his disciples power to heal the 
sick in his name. One day Peter and John went 
together to the temple and saw a man wdio had 
been lame all his life lying beside one of the 
gateways. This gatewav went by the name of 
the Gate Beautiful, on account of its great mag- 
nificence. As Peter and John were about to pass 
through the Gate Beautiful the lame man asked 
for money. Peter and John fixed their eyes stead- 
fastly on him, and Peter bade him look at them. 

The lame man thought they were about to give 
him the alms he had asked for; but Peter said: 
"Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have 
I give thee: in the name of Jesus Christ of Naza- 
reth, rise up and walk." Then he took the lame 
man by the hand and helped him to rise, and im- 
mediately his legs and feet became strengthened, 
so that he, who had not even been able to move 
without help, could walk and run and jump. 

How glad he was, and how grateful ! He could 
not find words in which to tell the two apostles 
all his gratitude, but held their robes and would 
not let them go out of his sight. 

When the people saw him walking beside Peter 
and John, giving thanks to God for his recovery, 
and recognized him as the lame beggar who had 
been used to sit by the Gate Beautiful, numbers 
of them believed on Jesus, whose very name had 
been enough to work such wonders. 



The chief priests and the captain of the temple, 
and the Sadducees, wdien they heard that the dis- 
cii)les were bringing so many of the people to 
believe on Jesus, came and took Peter and John 
and put them in prison. Ikit the next day they 
were obliged to let them go again, for they could 
find no excuse to ])unish ihem ; but they forbade 
them to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ, threat- 
ening to punish them if they should do so. 

As Soon as Peter and John were released the 
people came to them, eager to hear all they could 
tell them of Jesus. So anxious were they to be 
true followers of Christ that they even sold all 
their houses and possessions and brought the 
money to the disciples to take care of and dis- 
tribute as thev thought best. By this means none 
would be either rich or poor, for those wdio had 
no monev would be provided for by those wdio 
had; thev wished to have evervthing in common. 

But even at that early date there were some 
Christians who were not sincere. There was a 
man named .Ananias, and he and his wife Sap- 
phira wished to be thought as generous as the 
other Christians, but }et could not bear to part 
with all their wealth. So wdien they sold their 
possessions they agreed to keep back a part of the 
money they received for their own private use. 
This thev did, and .Ananias went to the disciples 
and gave them a bag of money, saying that it was 
all he had been able to obtain for his possessions. 
He knew he was telling a lie, and God also knew 
it, and revealed the truth to Peter. 

Peter spoke very sternly to Ananias. The land 
had been his own, he said ; he was not obliged to 
sell it. Even wdien sold, he might have kepi 
either the wdiole or part of it for himself; he was 
not forced to give it up. But what he was bound 
to do was to speak the truth. If he professed to 
be a follower of Jesus Christ he had no right 
either to tell a lie or to try to deceive in any way. 

"Thou hast not lied unto men, brut unto God," 
Peter said ; and immediately God sent a fearful 
punishment in proof that it was he whom /Ananias 
liad offended, for the untruthful man fell down 
dead at Peter's feet. Some young men wdio were 
present carried his body away and buried it. 

Three hours later Sapphira came in, not know- 
ing what had happened to her husband. Peter 
(|uestioned her about the money, wishing to find 
out if she would speak the truth ; but she lied to 
him as Ananias had done. 

Then Peter said : "How is it that ye have agreed 
together to tempt the Spirit of the Lord? Be- 
hold, the feet of them which have buried thy hus- 
band are at the door, and shall carry thee out." 
And, as her husband had done, Sapphira fell dead 
at Peter's feet. 



342 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



THE MARTYRDOM OF STEPHEN 



Although many of the people had been taught 
by Jesus's disciples to believe on him, there were 
still great numbers who not only scoffed at his 
holy name, but who persecuted all those who tried 
to spread the new faith. 

The chief priests and those in authority did not 
wish Christ's teachings of justice, mercy, and 
truth to gain ground, for thev knew that if all the 
people became Christians thev would not allow 
themselves to be governed by those who were un- 
just and unmerciful, and who were cheats and 
liars. 

So they bribed a number of wicked men to 
come forward and swear falsely that Christ's 
followers had offended in some way against the 
Jewish laws. 

Among the first to be accused was a very good 
and holy man named Stephen. 

Stephen was so very clever that in arguing 
with the priests in the synagogue he could always 
prove them in the wrong. No matter how they 
attacked his teachings and what plots they made 
to entrap him, he always succeeded in answering 
them so wisely and yet truthfully that they were 
forced to own themselves beaten. 

This made them more bitter still against Ste- 
phen, and so they determined to kill him. They 
bribed some men to declare that they had heard 
him speak blasphemous words against both God 
and the prophet Moses, and so Stephen was 
seized and brought into court to answer these 
charges. 

As he stood there, fearless before his enemies, 
the false witnesses began to make their accusa- 
tions against him. 

Never in all his life had he harmed any one, 
and vet these rulers of the people sat there plot- 
ting to take his life, simply because they knew 
that he was a good man while they were evil- 
minded. As they looked at him, the Bible tells us 
they saw his face "as it had been the face of an 
angel." For the God he loved and served had 
covered it with the beauty and glory of true in- 
nocence. 

When the false witnesses had finished speaking, 
Stephen was asked if he could defend himself 
against the charges they had made ; then how 
boldlv he defended himself, and how faithfully 
he declared the truth ! He reminded them how 
the prophets whom thev professed to honor had 
been in turn persecuted by them and their fathers 
before them. He told them they were betrayers 
and murderers. How had Moses been treated, 



the prophet sent by God to lead his people to the 
Promised Land? Their forefathers had mur- 
mured against him in the same way that Ste- 
])hen's judges had murmured against God's own 
Son: nay, tlicy had done more; they had betrayed 
their Saviour to a cruel death upon the cross. 

Then Stephen turned from the council of 
wicked and angry men and looked steadfastly up 
to heaven, and there he beheld a vision of a glory 
he was soon to share. "Behold ! I see the Son of 
man standing on the right hand of God," he said. 

His enemies could no longer restrain their fury: 
they rushed upon him and, carrying him beyond 
the city walls, they stoned him to death. Stephen 
had no fear of death : he knew that his Lord and 
Master had died and had risen again; that as soon 
as life had left his body his spirit would be with 
God, who gave it. 

"Lord Jesus, receive my spirit!" he prayed. 
Then, as the cruel stones struck him again and 
again, he knelt and. raising his hands toward 
heaven, with his last breath he asked God to for- 
give his enemies. "Lord, lay not this sin to their 
charge," he said. "And when he had said this, 
he fell asleep." There is no death for the Chris- 
tian ; only a sleep, from which he will awake in 
heaven. 

About this time there were many others besides 
Stephen who had suffered for their faith. Herod, 
the King, had caused one of the apostles, named 
James, to be put to death by the sword : and now 
he ordered Peter to be thrown into prison, mean- 
ing to execute him also. 

He was given into the charge of sixteen sol- 
diers, who were to guard him four at a time, and 
after Easter had passed Herod intended to kill 
Peter in the sight of the people as a warning that 
all who preached Christianity would be treated in 
a like manner. But all those whom Peter had 
taught to be followers of Christ prayed to God to 
deliver him from his enemies, and God heard 
them. 

We told you that Jesus had called Peter "the 
rock upon which his Church should be founded." 
Peler had already begun to establish that Church; 
but it was not sufficiently firmly founded for Pe- 
ter's work to be ended, and so God sent an angel 
to save his life. On the night before the day 
fixed for his execution Peter was sleeping peace- 
fully, although he was lying chained to two of 
the soldiers, while the other two guarded the 
prison door. 

Suddenly Peter awoke and saw a bright light 



BIBLE STORIES EOR OLDER CHILDREN 



343 



in the g^loomy prison, anil beside I'ini stood an 
angel, who made Iiiin rise up quickl\-. And as lie 
rose the chains fell from liis hands and feet, ("i.id 
must have caused the soldiers who were gaiardint;' 
Peter to sleep ver\' soundly, for the elankiut;" of 
the chains as they fell to the ground did not 
awaken them. 



The angel led Peter safely through the different 
guards, and when the\- came to the outer gate of 
the prison, which was of ir(-in, it opened of itself, 
sii that Peter :niil the angel passed through into 
tlie cit\-. There the angel left Peter, and he went 
to the hduse nf snnie Christian friends, where he 
knew he would be safe for a time. 



THE SAYINGS OF JESUS 



\\'e have studied some of the principal events in 
the life of Jesus; we have recounted some of his 
most beautiful parables. Here we read, collected 
and grouped under suitable headings, those of his 
savings which are the breath and spirit of Chris- 
tianitv. From the events, parables, and sayings 
of Tesus we derive an impression of Christ which 
should remain permanentl}- in our hearts; and it 
is this personal influence of Jesus, ncit what we 
profess to believe about him, that is the' triumph 
of Christianit}'. 

The central and happiest fact of the teaching 
of Jesus is the fatherhood of God. 

Here and there in the Old Testament the word 
"father" appears, but it is in a loose and poetic 
form— onlv a figure of speech. Jesus made the 
fatherhood of God not a figure, but a fact. I^ven 
if all the churches vanished to-morrow, and all 
the documents of Christianity perished, and even 
if the verv name of Tesus passed by some miracle 
from the earth, still, in man's clinging tr. the 
fatherhood of (joil, Christ would move with hu- 
manity toward its destiny. To him, and to him 
alone, we owe the tremendous idea that he who 
called this immense universe into existence is our 
Father. 

Therefore, at the head of all the sayings we 
place that sublime prayer \\diich is the real creed 
of Christendom, and the one form of utterance 
which unites all churches and all sects ; 

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy 
name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on 
earth as it is in heaven; give us this day our daily 
bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we for- 
give those wdio trespass against us ; and lead us 
not into temptation, but deliver us from evil; for 
thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the 
glory, forever and ever. .-\men. 

We pause for a moment over these noble words 
—the most familiar words in our language — and 
let their sacred magic sink deep into our hearts. 
"Our Father." It is the cry of humanity. Christ, 



the shepherd, kneeling at the head of his little 
flock, utters those words, and humanity takes up 
the pra}-er with all the longing and suffering of 
its troubled heart — "Our leather." 

The great conception of the fatherhood of God 
was never absent from the mind of [esus. We 
see it present again and again in some of his no- 
blest and most beautiful \\ords, such as we group 
together here : 

Bkiioli) the fowls of the air: for thev sow not, 
neither do thev reap. n(ir gather into barns; yet 
vour IieaA'enh' leather feedeth them. 

If ve then, being evil, know how to give good 
gifts unto ^'our children, luiw much more shall 
vour Father which is in heaven .give the good 
tilings to them that ask him. 

Lo\-e \-our enemies, Mess them that curse you, 
do good to them that hate ^"0U, and prav for them 
which despitefully use \r>u. and persecute you; 
that \-e ma\- be the chililren of }-our Father which 
is in heaven. 

Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Ivather 
which is in liea\"en is perfect. 

It is not the will of vour Father which is in 
heaven, that one of these little ones should perish. 

God so loveiJ the world, that he gave his only 
begotten Son. that whosoever bclieveth in him 
should not perish, but have everlasting hfe. For 
God sent not his Son into the world to condemn 
the world ; but that the world through him might 
be saved. 

God is a Spirit : and they that worship him must 
worship him in spirit and in truth. 



THE GREAT COMMAXD^IEXT 

Tesus gave the world a new ami beautiful com- 
mandment : 

Tnou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy 
heart, and wdth all thy soul, and with all thy mind, 
and with all thy strength: this is the first com- 



Courtesy Tissnt ricture So,:ietv, N. Y. 




L f\r ^1 t L> liss t I V3 



t .1)1 I TiiSjt 



THE bERMUN ON THE MOUNT. 



"And seeing tlie multitudes, he went up into a mountain; and when he was set, his disciples 
came unto him; and he opened his mouth and taught them," — Illatt. v, 1-3. 



BIBLE STORIKS FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



345 



mandment. And the second is like, namely this, 
Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. 

A new commandment 1 give unto you. That \ e 
love one another ; as I have loved you. that ye 
also love one another. By tliis shall all men know 
that ye are my disciples, if ye have ku'c one to 
another. 

If ye keep my couunandmcnts. ye shall aliide in 
my love. 

These things I command you, that ^•e ma\- lo\'e 
one another. 

The parables have already shown us the im- 
portance attached by Christ to this spirit of lov- 
ing brotherlin'ess. Our neighbor is any man in 
trouble. Even our enemies must share in the lo\'c 
of God which grows within our hearts. 

JESUS SPEAKS OF IimSELF 

Here we have many sayings of Jesus concerning 
himself: 

To this end was I born, and for this cause came 
I into the world, that I should bear witness unto 
the truth. 

Come unto me, all ye that laljor and are heavy 
laden, and I will give you rest. 

I can of mine own self do nothing: as I hear, 
I judge; and my judgment is true: because I seek 
not mine own will, but the will of the Father 
which sent me. 

I came down from heaven, not to do mine own 
will, but the will of him that sent me. 

I am come in mv Father's name, and ye recei\'c 
me not: if another shall come in his own name, 
him ye will receive. 

He that believeth me, believeth not me, but him 
that sent me. 

The Son of man is not come to destroy men's 
lives, but to save them. 

I am the light of the world. 

I am the good shepherd. 

I am the way, the truth, and the life. 

Your sorrow shall be turned into joy. 

Your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man 
taketh from you. 

I am the bread of life: he that cometh unto nie 
shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me 
shall never thirst. 

These words have I spoken unto you, that my 
joy might remain in you, and that your joy might 
be full. 

SAYINGS ABOUT SIN 

Now come many striking sayings of Jesus about 
sin; 



Whosoever connnitteth sin is the servant of sin. 

A man's life C(.insisleth not in the abundance of 
the things which he possesseth. 

lie that l(i\-eth his life shall lose it; and he that 
(Icspisclh his lile in tins world shall keep it unto 
life eternal. 

A good tree bringeth not forth corrupt fruit. 

Thou shalt worship the Lord thy (jod, and him 
(inly shalt thou serve. 

Th:it which is born of the flesh is flesh, and 
that which is burn of the spirit is spirit.' 

E"\'er\' one that docth evil hateth the light. 

Sin no niiire, lest a worse thing come unto thee. 

Throughout the parables and throughout the 
incidents runs this clear message of the danger 
of sin. Sin is condemned for the sake of the 
sinner. 

A person who is angry, or who commits mur- 
der, a person who is greedy, a person who covets 
nione\', horses, lands, and raiment, or a person 
who is a miser, cannot get his heart into a condi- 
tion to receive the truth of life. They lay up for 
themselves treasures upon earth. 

Thc\' turn their backs upon immortality. They 
deny- (jod. Sin does not consist merely of acts; 
it is the state i:if the heart. W'e shut ourselves 
out from the indescril.iable blessings God has pre- 
jiared for us b\' preferring wdiat is mean to what 
is great, wdiat is wicked to what is good. 

W'he.x \e stand praving, forgive, if ye have 
ought against any: that your Father also which is 
in hea\en may forgive you your trespasses. But 
if ye do not forgive, neither will your Father 
w hich is in heaven forgive your trespasses. 

Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye 
shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. 

For evcrv one that asketh receiveth ; and he 
that seeketh findeth ; and to him that knocketh it 
shall lie opened. 

C)r what man is there of you, whom if his son 
ask bread, will he give him a stone? 

Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent? 

If ye then, lieing evil, know how to give good 
gifts unto vour children, how much more shall 
your Father which is in heaven give good things 
to them that ask him. 

When thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and 
when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Feather 
which is in secret ; and thy Father wdiich seeth 
in secret shall reward thee openly. 

Have faith in God. 

^'our Father knoweth what things ye have need 
of, before ye ask him. 

Watch ye and pra_\-, lest )-e enter into tempta- 
tion. 



346 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



THE BLESSINGS OF JESUS 

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the 
kingdom of heaven. 

Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be 
comforted. 

Blessed are the meek : for they shall inherit the 
earth. 

Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst 
after righteousness: for they shall be filled. 

Blessed are the merciful : for they shall obtain 
mercy. 

Blessed are the pure in heart : for thev shall see 
God. 

Blessed are the peacemakers : for they shall be 
called the children of God. 

Blessed are they which are persecuted for 
righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of 
heaven. 

Blessed are ye when men shall revile you, and 
persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil 
against you falsely, for my sake. 



THESE LITTLE ONES 

Jesus called a little child and set him in the midst 
of them, and said: Verily I say unto you, Except 
ye be converted, and become as little children, ye 
shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. 

Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as 
this little child, the same is greatest in the king- 
dom of heaven. 

And whoso shall receive one such little child in 
my name receiveth me. 

But whoso shall offend one of these little ones 
which believe in me, it were better for him that a 
millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he 
were drowned in the depth of the sea. 

Woe unto the world because of olTences ! for it 
must needs be that offences come; but woe to that 
man by whom the offence cometh I 



COME UNTO ME 

Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy 
laden, and I willgive you rest. 

Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me ; for 
I am meek and lowly in heart ; and ye shall find 
rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and 
my burden is lieht. 



I S-\Y UNTO YOU 

Ye have heard that it hath been said. An eye for 
an eye, and a tooth for a tooth : but I say unto you, 



That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite 
thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. 

And if any man will sue thee at the law, and 
take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. 

And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, 
go with him twain. 

Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that 
would borrow of thee turn not thou away. 

Ye have heard that it hath been said. Thou 
shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy. 

But I say unto you. Love your enemies, bless 
them that curse you, do good to them that hate 
you, and pray for them which despitefully use 
you, and persecute you; 

That ye may be the children of your Father 
which is in heaven : for he maketh his sun to rise 
on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on 
the just and on the unjust. 

For if ye love them which love you, what re- 
ward have ye ? Do not even the publicans the 
same ? 

And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye 
more than others? Do not even the publicans so? 

Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father 
which is in heaven is perfect. 



ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL TALKS 
OF JESUS 

L.\Y not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, 
where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where 
thieves break through and steal ; 

But lay up for j'ourselves treasures in heaven, 
where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and 
where thieves do not break through nor steal. 

For where your treasure is, there will your 
heart be also. 

The light of the body is the eye: if therefore 
thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full 
of light. 

But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall 
be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is 
in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness ! 

No man can serve two masters : for either he 
will hate the one, and love the other; or else he 
will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye 
cannot serve God and mammon. 

Therefore I say unto you. Take no thought for 
your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall 
drink ; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put 
on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body 
than raiment ? 

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, 
neither do they reap, nor gather into barns : yet 
your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not 
much better than they ? 



BIBLE STORIES EOR OLDER CHILDREN 



347 



Which of you hy taking thought can add one 
cubit unto his stature? 

And why take ye thought for raiment? 

Consider the hhes of the field, how thcv grow; 
thev toil not, neither do they spin ; And _\ct I sav 
unto vou, that e\'en Solomon in all his glorv was 
not arrayed like one of these. 

Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the 
field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into 
the oven, shall he not much more clothe ^■ou O 
ye of little faith?' 

Therefore take no thought, sa\"ing. What shall 
we eat? or, A\diat shall we drink? or, Wdiere- 
withal shall we he clothed? 

For vour heavenly Father knoweth that ve 
have need of all these things. 

But seek ye first the kingdom of Cod, and his 
righteousness ; and all these things shall be added 
unto you. 

Fear not, little flock ; for it is your Father's 
good pleasure to give you the kingdom. 

Sell that ye have, and give alms ; provide your- 
selves bags wdiich wax not old, a treasure in the 
heavens that faileth not, where no thief approach- 
eth. neither moth corrupteth. 

Here we must take leave of the beautiful say- 
ings. Let us consider, wdien we read them, that 
they are words all of which ha\'e been repcatei! 
by the lips of men the most renowned, the most 
famous, the most enduring. These little sa\'ings 
have turned the rushing current of history. They 
have accomplished more than armies. They rule 
where no emperor can reach. They have built 
the greatest buildings, painted the noblest pic- 
tures, and inspired the grandest poems ; and, far 
more than this, thev have sweetened the heart 
and the mind of man. 

These sayings of Jesus have crimforted the 
mourner; they have cheered the prisoner in his 
captivitv and the exile in his loneliness; they have 
checked the hand of tyranny ; they have shamed 
the heart of cruelty; they have set a little child at 
the head of the great trilling, stumfiling, murmur- 
ing and noisv arm\- of humanity; and they have 
saved the world. 

THE WORD-PICTURES OF JESUS 
THE PARABLES 

The word parable means a comparison. But the 
word is used in more wavs than one. David says 
in Psalm 78; "I will open m-,- mouth in a parable; 
I will utter dark sa\-ings of old"; wdiile St. Mark 
makes the Master say to his disciples: "Unto you 
it is given to know the mystery of the kingdom of 
God; but unto them that are without, all these 



things are done in parables." One use of the 
win'd, so til say, is for hiding the real meaning. 
1 he other meainng is the very opposite of this, 
namel>-, to make clear what is dark, to express 
\'i\-idl\- by a Cduip.arison wh.at is really indescrib- 
able. It is clear that Jesus eniplii\ed the parable, 
both with the multitude and his disciples, in its 
must natural furm, namely, as a "form of speech 
in which two statements . , . resembling one an- 
other, yet draw^n from distinct spheres of obser- 
vation, are laid alongside of one another," for the 
purposes of greater vividness ami illumination. 

1 he parables of Jesus remain the most exquisite 
and ])crfect of all the world's word-pictures. 
From his boyhood he had lived with nature, and 
had contemplated the loveliness of the fields, the 
beauty of moving water, and the majesty of the 
stars, ^\■ith Joseph he had gone from village to 
village, carrying his workman's tools, listening 
perhaps to the builders' conversation, but cer- 
tainly studying everything that met his e\-cs with 
the steady interest and the devout admiration of 
a poet. 

These things live in his parables spoken to the 
multitude and S[)oken to the ages. Dr. Neumann, 
the German \\Titer, tells us how Jesus must have 
studied with interest sowing and reaping, tares 
and thiirns, mustard-shrub and fruit-tree. "The 
lilies iif the fieU for him are living things," says 
Dr. X'eumann. "He reads a lesson in the sparrow 
and the do\e on the housetop, in the hen in the 
courtward, in the voracious bird of prev, in the 
fox in its hole, in the ravening wolf, in the cun- 
ning serpent." It is because Jesus went to the 
simplest things in nature for his sublimest lessons 
that the parables are imperishable. 

THE STORY OF THE PRODIGAL SON 

Tesus tells the storv of a man who had two sons. 
One of the sons claimed his share in the property 
of his father, and soon after he had received this 
monev set out for adventures in the world. In- 
stead, however, of using his money wisely, he 
wasted it. Then, just as the last of his coins had 
gone the way of all the others, this riotous and 
foolish vouth heard the frightenerl whisper that 
a famine had come upon the land. Soon he was 
starving, and found himself obliged to work in 
the fields, feeding swine for a mere starvation 
allowance of food. So hungry was he that some- 
times he could have eaten the husks thrown to the 
swine. Then across his mind passed the long pro- 
cession of his father's lo\-e and kindness all his 
youth up. 

The storv is told in some of the most moving 
words ever uttered by Jesus. 



348 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



And when he came to himself, he said, How 
many hired servants of ni\- fatlier's have bread 
enough and to spare, and I perisli with hunger ! 
I will arise and go to my fatlier, and will sav unto 
him. Father, I have sinned against heaven, and 
before thee, and am no more worthy to be called 
thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants. 

And he arose, and came to his father. But 
when he was yet a great way off, his father saw 
him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his 
neck, and kissed him. And the son said unto him. 
Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy 
sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy 
son. But the father said to his servants, Bring 
forth the best robe, and put it on him ; and put a 
ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: and bring 
hither the fatted calf, and kill it ; and let us eat, 
and be merry : for this my son was dead, antl is 
alive again : he was lost, and is found. And they 
began to be merry. 

Now his elder son was in the field: and as he 
came and drew nigh to the house, he heard music 
and dancing. And he called one of the servants, 
and asked what these things meant. And he said 
unto him, Thy brother is come; and thy father 
hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath re- 
ceived him safe and sound. And he was angry, 
and would not go in : therefore came his father 
out, and entreated him. And he answering said 
to his father, Lo, these many years do I serve 
thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy com- 
mandment : and yet thou never gavest me a kid, 
that I might make merry with my friends : but as 
soon as this thy son was come, which hath de- 
voured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed 
for him the fatted calf. And he said unto him, 
Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is 
thine. It was meet that we should make merry, 
and be glad : for this thy brother was dead, and is 
alive again ; and was lost, and is found. 

This parable stands in the front of all the para- 
bles, because it is the one which has done most, 
not only to draw men from wrong-doing, cruelty, 
and brutishness, but also from the dangerous feel- 
ing that it is no good trying to be good wdien once 
one has fallen. It teaches that our Father moves 
to meet us with love and mercy directly we begin 
to turn away from what we were so blind as to 
deem better than his gift of eternal life. 



THE GOOD SAMARITAN 

Jesus had spoken to a questioning lawyer about 
love for God and love for our neighbor. The 
lawyer, wishing to justify his questions, asked: 



"And who is my neighbor?" To the poor, paltry 
pride of this little lawyer we owe the great para- 
ble of the Good Samaritan. 

"A certain man," said Jesus, "went down from 
Terusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, 
which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded 
him, and departed, leaving him half dead. And 
by chance there came down a certain priest that 
way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the 
other side. And likewise a Levite. . . . But a 
certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where 
he was : and when he saw him, he had compassion 
on him, and went to him, and bound up his 
wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on 
his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and 
took care of him. . . . Which now of these three, 
Ihinkest thou, was neighbor unto him that fell 
among thieves ?" 

When the lawyer had answered, Jesus said: 
"Go, and do thou likewise." 

Here, in a convincing story, Jesus showed the 
brotherhood of man. Our neighbor's name is 
Everyman. Whatever language he speaks, what- 
ever the color of his skin, whatever are his reli- 
gion and customs, he is our neighbor. The priest 
and the Levite may go by, but he who serves God 
will recognize his neighbor in every stranger who 
happens to fall by the way. 



THE SOWER 

The parable of the sower has been endeared to 
us by a beautiful harvest hymn, and painters in 
all lands have given us striking pictures of the 
sower, passing up the furrows casting the seed 
which shall feed mankind to right and to left of 
him. It is interesting, too, because of the place 
where the parable was spoken. 

Jesus, thronged about by a great host of peo- 
ple, who pressed him even to the water's edge, 
entered a fisherman's ship; and in this gently 
rocking craft, with the multitude standing on the 
shore, he spoke to them. The sight of all those 
people, so eager to hear what he had to say, sug- 
gested an instant comparison to his mind. 

"Behold," he said, "a sower went forth to sow." 
And then the story unfolded itself— the story of 
the fate of the seed, how some fell on stony 
places, how some were devoured by birds, and 
how some fell among thorns, but how some fell 
into good ground. 

What is the fate of the seed? It depends upon 
the condition of the soil where it falls. The sun- 
set which fills us with mystery and ecstasy is the 
same sunset to which the foolish man looks with- 
out admiration or emotion of any kind. The ex- 



BIBLE STORIES EOR OLDER CHILDREN 



349 



quisite beauty of Christ's toachiiif;- in simic men 
produces a mere form of \vorshi|), m others a de- 
votion to the poor and sorrowful, in others a fear 
of the next world, in otlicrs a passionate lom;int;- 
for the love of God now and throucjhout eternit\', 
and in others, nothnig-. It all depends upon the 
attitude of our characters, how the word of the 
Master erows ui our hearts. 



THE RICH EOOL 

The parables which leave a terrible impression 
on the mind are those directed against the wor- 
ship of money. That worship is a form of mad- 
ness. The ^Master used the strongest words to 
rouse men from the stupor of this most danger- 
ous malady of the brain. How terrible is the 
parable of the rich fool ! He had more wealth 
than he knew what to do with ; so he said unto 
himself : 

"I will pull down m\ barns, and build greater; 
and there will I bestow all mv fruits and m\- 
goods. And I will say to m\ soul. Soul, thou hast 
much goods laid up for manv \ears : take thine 
ease, eat, drink, and be merrv." But God said to 
him: "Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be re- 
quired of thee." 

DR'ES AND LAZARUS 

Then there is the other arresting story of Dives 
and Lazarus. The rich inan lived in pleasure and 
ease; the beggar lav at the gate, suttering and 
starving. Dives died, and in hell lifted up his 
eyes and saw Lazarus in heaven. He begged for 
a drop of water. But Lazarus could not cross to 
the place where he suffered; it was impossible 
for him to do so. 

Nothing, we can easilv imagine, could he worse 
than the burning remorse of the rich man who 
discovers, too late, that he let the pour suffer 
while he feasted and made merr}-. To that agony 
even the merciful beggar cannot carry comfort; 
even the beggar could not reach the depth of that 
pain. Also, this terrible parable teaches the les- 
son that we create our characters iiiiallcrahly by 
our manner of living. The rich man who sets his 
heart on riches is not able to understand — he can- 
not understand — the good things of (iod, even the 
Father, 

THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN 

More beautiful, but hardly less stern in its lesson, 
is the parable of the Pharisee who prayed in the 
temple : "God, I thank thee that I am not as other 



men are"; who compared himself proudly with a 
piHir publican prating in the distance. And this 
publican, "standing afar olf, would not lift up so 
nuicli as his e_\-es unto liea\-cn, but smote upon 
his breast, sa_\'ing, (iod be merciful to me a sin- 
ner." "I tell you," said Jesus, "this man went 
down (() his house justified rather than the other." 
llere is warning against self-righteousness, 
against the dreadful presumption of thinking that 
God nuist be pleased with us because we are 
pleased willi ourseh-es. Before the unspeakable 
majesty and power of (iod there is only one fit- 
ting altitude for humanity and that is the bowed 
head; onl\' one fitting utterance, and that is: "Be 
merciful to me a sinner,'' 



THE LOST SHEEP 

F.\M0t's and more than famous, endeared bv the 
love of the whole worlil, is the brief parable of 
the lost sheep. Jesus was speaking with a host of 
sinners and outcasts who had gathered eagerlv to 
hear a teacher of l(i\'e and goodness, who did not 
turn from them with horror. Some Pharisees 
drew near, murmuring: "This man receiveth sin- 
ners and eateth with them." Jesus turned upon 
them, and said : "What man of vou, having an 
hundred shee[i, if he lose one of them, doth not 
leave the iiinet\- and nine in the wilderness, and 
go after that which is lost, until he find it? And 
vhen he hath found it, he laveth it on his shoul- 
ders, rejoicing. And when he cometh home, he 
calleth together his friends and neighbors,, saying 
unto them. Rejoice with me; for I have found 
my sheep which was lost." 



THE PIECE OF SILVER 

It was on this same occasion, as if his heart, 
overcharged with love and desire for sorrowful 
humanitv, could not contain its message of biope, 
that he uttered the great parable of the Prodigal 
Son, and also the little gem of the lost piece of 
silver, "Either what woman having ten pieces of 
silver, if she lose one piece, doth not light a can- 
dle, and sweep the house, and seek diligently till 
she find it?" W'hat a picture, in a few words, of 
a simple and frugal ddiueslic life nf the poor to 
whom he was (le\-oled ! ".\nd when she hath 
found it, she calleth her friends and her neighbors 
together, saying. Rejoice with me; fi"ir I have 
found the piece which I bad lost." Then he turned 
to the Pharisees, and said: "Likewise, I say unto 
you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of 
God over one sinner that repentcth." 




THE LOST SHEEP. 

" How think ye ? If a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, iloth 
he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth into the mountains, and seelceth that which is 
gone astray ? And if so be that he find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth more 
of that sheep, than of the ninety and nine which went not astray." — Matt, xviii. 12-13. 

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BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CIIILLREN 



351 



THE WHEAT AND THE TARES 

The parable of the wheat and the lares has he- 
come one of the most famihar of all the stories 
of Tesus. Here, teaehing its simple lesson with 
power, is the whole i-if it: 

The kingdom of heaven is likened nnto a man 
which sowed good seed in his fielil : bnt while men 
slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among the 
wheat, and went his way. 

But wdien the blade was sprnng up. anil brought 
forth fruit, then appeared the tares also. 

So the servants of the householder came and 
said unto him. Sir, didst neit thou sow good seed 
in thy field? From whence then hath it tares? 

He said unto them. An enemy hath done this. 

The servants said unto him, Wdt thou then 
that we go and gather them up ? 

But he said, Xay ; lest \\ hUe >e gather up the 
tares, ve root up alsci the wheat with them. I^et 
both grow^ together until the harvest: and in the 
time of harvest I will say to the reapers, (iather 
ye together first the tares, and bind them in bun- 
dles to burn them ; but gather the w heat into my 
barn. 

THE GREAT SUPPER 

The great supper is another of the parables of 
Tesus that we must not omit from this selection : 

A CERTAIN man made a great supper, and bade 
manv : and sent his servant at supper-time to say 
to tliem that were bidden. Come ; f'ir all things arc 
now ready. 

And they all with one consent began to make 
excuse. The first said unto him, I have bought a 
piece of ground, and I must needs go and see it : 
I pray thee have me excused. -And another said, 
I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to 
prove them; I pray thee have me excused. And 
another said, I have married a wife, and therefore 
I cannot come. 

So that servant came, and showed his lord these 
things. 

Then the master of the house being angry said 
to his servant, Go out quickly into the streets and 
lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor, and 
the maimed, and the halt, and the blind. 



,'\nd the sei-\'ant s.aid. Lord, it is done as thou 
hast commanded, :ind \et there is room. 

.\nd the luril s:iid unto the servant, ( jo out into 
the highw'a\s and hedges, and compel them to 
Come in, lh;it m\- house mav l:ie filled. For I say 
unto \ou, That none of those men wdiich were 
bidden shall taste of my supper. 

\\'ii|':n we read these parables in the Bible, we 
should remember the striking truth they bring 
home to us uf Christ's certainty and calm in the 
midst of conllict and app.arent defeat. He was 
ouK' a [leasaut, onl\- the poor and the outcasts fol- 
lowed him; in all the great cities there were the 
great priests of the old-established religion, and 
the learned philosophers of Greece and Rome. 
But lesus was unalTrighted, and calndy certain of 
his final triumph. 

.Again and again in beautiful parables and strik- 
ing sayings he told his disciples that the work 
Ijegun so simply and so humbly anKjng the poorest' 
people wiiuld one day encompass the world. 
Never was teacher so serene concerning the vic- 
tor\- of his teaching; never was prophet so reliant 
on the triumph of ( lod. 

It is to the parables that we turn again and 
again, and vet again, when we want to draw 
cltiser to the voice of Jesus. Flere is enshrined 
in picture fnrm. and in more certain language 
than an\-where else, the teaching wdiich, so 
strangely snn[ile and childlike that even the tnost 
ignorant ma\- understand it, is yet the sublimest 
knnwii among men. 

Concerning doctrine and the conflict of churches 
there mav be doubt ami distress in our hearts; 
but m the beautiful country of the parables all is 
peace and rest. We feel that Christ is there. We 
close our eyes, and almost feel that we are on the 
hillside of Nazareth, close to the gentle teacher, 
the music of his voice in our ears. 

A\'e seem to be of that favored company of sim- 
ple men who spent their days with the Alaster, lis- 
tening to the words as they fell from his lips. All 
difficulties are cleared away, our path lies straight 
before us, and the memory of the beautiful, unsel- 
fish life of Jesus inspires ns to be strong to follow 
the teaching of the paraldes, and to con(iuer our 
weaknesses. 



STORIES FROM THE GOSPELS 



THE BIRTH AND BOYHOOD OF JESUS 



Let us try to imagine, as they occurred, these lit- 
tle exqui.site details in the sublime picture which 

Let us look, for a moment, at some of the most is Christ himself. 

striking and beautiful events in the Master's life. We will begin with the story of his birth, which 



352 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



is one of the most touching in the world, when we 
consider that he was destined to be called the 
Light of the World, and to have emperors, kings, 
and nations as his worshipers. 

His father and mother were going up to Jeru- 
salem for the census, and on the journey from 
their little village they came to the city of Bethle- 
hem. They arrived late in the evening, and the 
place was already full of people going to Jerusa- 
lem. Joseph looked around him, but could find 
no house to take him and his wife in. 

After much searching, for Mary was tired by 
the long journey and greatly needing rest, Joseph 
got permission from an innkeeper, whose house 
was full of guests, to make use of his stable. And 
there, in the hush of night, with the stars over- 
head and the warm breathings of animals filling 
the little stable, Jesus was born. His mother, 
wrapping him in swaddling clothes, laid him in a 
wooden manger — the cradle of the greatest soul 
that ever visited the earth. Thus was Christ born, 
in the stable of an inn too full to receive his par- 
ents, and there he woke to his first dawn with the 
kiss of his mother on his brow. 

When he grew to be a man, Jesus went about 
teaching people his revelation that the God whom 
they worshiped as a terrible judge was really a 
loving Father. One day, after he had been thus 
teaching, those narrow-minded and strict people 
called the Pharisees came and strove to entangle 
him with cunning questions. 

When he had answered them, tired and worn, 
he left the open air and retired to the house where 
he was staying. Here the disciples were ques- 
tioning him on the same matter which had brought 
the Pharisees about him, when certain women 
came crowding to the doc^ with their little chil- 
dren in their arms, and leading some by the hand, 
only that he should touch them. 

The disciples, unwilling to be interrupted in 
their serious conversation, and anxious to shield 
their weary Master from intrusion, rebuked the 
women. But when Jesus saw it, he wr.s much 
displeased, and said unto them: "Suffer the little 
children to come unto me, and forbid them not: 
for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say 
unto you. Whosoever shall not receive the king- 
dom of God as a little child, he shall not enter 
therein.'' And after this sublime rebuke and this 
profound lesson, the Master took those little chil- 
dren up into his arms, put his hands upon them, 
and blessed them. 

For the Pharisees he had had only explanation, 
for the curious multitude only teaching, for the 
puzzled, questioning disciples only instruction; 
for the children he had blessing. Thus do we 
learn that to lay down doctrines and dogmas con- 



cerning this and that in Christ's mission, or to look 
too narrowly into the Bible for reasons and argu- 
ments, is to miss the secret. For such people 
there may be answer and instruction, but never 
blessing. 

"Verily," and that means emphatically, "1 say 
unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the king- 
dom of God as a little child, he shall not enter 
therein." 

The secret is so simple and so beautiful; God is 
love. To enter his kingdom one thing alone is 
necessary — love; the simple, unquestioning, and 
adoring love of a little child. 

Of all the events in Christ's life, this simple 
and almost accidental event reveals in a master- 
stroke of extraordinary beauty the religion of 
Christianity. 



THE COMING OF THE RICH 
YOUNG RULER 

It was soon after the incident we have just nar- 
rated that another striking event occurred in the 
life of Jesus. He was walking with his disciples, 
when a young man came running after him, 
and, reaching the place where he was, kneeled 
before him in admiration and reverence. 

"Good Master," exclaimed this youth, who, un- 
like Christ's disciples, was of the higher classes, 
"what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?" 
The question meant : "I have heard your teach- 
ing; I know that you speak of a life which is 
everlasting; I want to satisfy the unrest which is 
in my soul; tell me what is necessary for me to 
do." 

While the disciples looked with interest at the 
fervent youth kneeling before their humble Mas- 
ter, Jesus uttered one of his most memorable say- 
ings. "Why callest thou me good?" he said gen- 
tly; "there is none good but one, that is, God." 
Then he made a statement of the laws, the laws 
which concern morality; and the young man re- 
plied: "Master, all these have I observed from 
my youth." 

Whether he said this sadly, as though the keep- 
ing of commandments had not satisfied his long- 
ings, or whether he said it modestly and yet with 
pleasure at the remembrance of his victory over 
evil, Jesus, we are told by St. Mark, "beholding 
him, loved him." 

Very tenderly the Master must have said to 
him what followed: "One thing thou lackest: go 
thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to 
the poor, and thou shalt have. treasure in heaven: 
and come, take up the cross, and follow me." 

Did the young enthusiast make any answer to 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



3S3 



this invitation, any answer to the glance of love? 
It is not written. All we read are the painful, 
sad, but natural words: "And he was sad at that 
saving, and went away grieved: for he had great 
possessions." 

Can we not picture the expression in the eves 
of our Master as he watched the slow, retreating 
figure of the young man? Xo word of recall was 
uttered. Jesus watched him go ; then he turned 
and, looking round the little group of his disciples, 
said: "How hardly shall they that have riches 
enter into the kingdom of God!" That beautiful 
saving, so simple and so true, puzzled the dis- 
ciples, 

"Children," Jesus said to them, "how hard is it 
for them that trust in riches to enter into the 
kingdom of God ! It is easier for a camel to go 
through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man 
to enter into the kingdom of (jod." That is to 
say, a man attached to wealth and power cannot 
possibly have that freedom from the attractions 
of worldly life which is necessary for the recep- 
tion of God's love in the heart. 

But even then the disciples could not under- 
stand. "Who then can be saved?" they asked 
anxiously. And Jesus, looking upon them, said: 
"With men it is impossible, but not with God: for 
with God all things are possible." 



THE RULER WHO CAME TO JESUS 
BY NIGHT 

One night, when no one could see him, a ruler of 
the Jews, named Nicodemus. stole out from his 
house and made his way to Jesus. He was of the 
sect of the Pharisees, a strict follower of the 
Jewish law; but he had heard Jesus speak, and 
had listened to remarkable stories about him, and 
was disturbed in his mind. 

Secretly he came to the Master, secretly and 
earnestly, and Jesus probably saw him alone. 
Nicodemus was troubled, and he came to get at 
the meaning of Christ's teaching. To this troub- 
led Pharisee it was that Christ made the great 
statement: "God so loved the world, that he gave 
his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth 
in him should not perish, but have everlasting 
life. For God sent not his Son into the world to 
condemn the world; but that the world through 
him might be saved." 

Nicodemus learned that night what has been 
humanity's continual and increasing comfort for 
two thousand years — that God's attitude toward 
men is that of a loving Father, that Christ came 
to make men hunger and thirst after the love of 
God, even the Father. 



THE STORY OF MARY MAGDALENE 

.'\notiier Pharisee interested in the teaching of 
Jesus, a man named Simon, requested the Master 
to come and sit at meat with him in his house. 

While the meal was in progress, a woman of 
the city entered quietly, and kneeling behind Je- 
sus, as .he reclined upon the cushions, anointed 
his feet, while her tears of repentance fell upon 
them. For Mary Magdalene was a woman who 
had disobeyed the laws, and who had not lived a 
.good life. Simon, perceiving the woman, was 
struck by an idea. If Christ were really a 
prophet, he would know, without looking round, 
that the woman bathing his feet was a sinner, 
and repel her with scorn. 

As the thought turned in his mind, Jesus, who 
had felt the tears of the woman's repentance fall- 
ing on his feet, said : "Simon. I have somewhat to 
say unto thee." A silence fell upon the company. 

"Master, sav on." 

"There was a certain creditor which had two 
debtors : the one owed five hundred pence, and 
the other fiftv. .\nd when they had nothing to 
pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, 
therefore, which of them will love him most?" 

"I suppose that he to whom he forgave most." 

"Thou hast rightly judged." Then he turned 
for the first time to the woman. "Simon, seest 
thou this woman? I entered into thine house, 
thou gavest me no water for my feet: but she 
hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them 
with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no 
kiss : but this woman since the time I came in hath 
not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou 
didst not anoint, but this woman hath anointed 
my feet with ointment. Wherefore, I say unto 
thee, her sins, which are many, are forgiven ; for 
she loved much : but to whom little is forgiven, 
the same loveth little." 

Then the beautiful, tender eyes of the Master 
turned again to the poor woman. "Thy sins are 
forgiven," he said gently. Immediately the great 
silence which had fallen on the company was 
broken by a murmur of indignation: "Who is this 
that forgiveth sins also?" 

Jesus, with his divine gaze still bent upon the 
poor weeping woman, said to her — and said to all 
unhappy souls throughout all the ages of time — 
"Thy faith hath saved thee ; go in peace." 



MARTHA AND MARY, THE FRIENDS 
OF JESUS 

Jesus went into a little house in a village named 
Bethany, where lived two sisters. The elder, 



354 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



Martha, was a good housewife, and as soon as the 
great teacher entered her humble abode she im- 
mediately set about preparing a meal in his honor. 
But, while she busied herself in this way, the 
younger sister, Mary, sat at the feet of Jesus, lis- 
tening to his wonderful conversation. Then came 
Martha, indignant, and said : "Lord, dost thou 
not care that my sister hath left me to serve 
alone? Bid her, therefore, that she help me." 

"Martha, Martha," replied the gentle Master, 
"thou art careful and troubled about many things. 
But one thing is needful : and Mary hath chosen 
that good part, which shall not be taken away 
from her." Thus, from the natural indig'nation 
of a practical and busy elder sister in a little vil- 
lage of the East, there has traveled round the 
world the profound instruction that the greatest 
of all the qualities of the human heart is love. 
To prepare honor and comfort for Christ is not 
all : to kneel at his feet and love, this is to receive 
him. 

ZACCH^US THE TAX-COLLECTOR 

How picturesque is this following incident! Jesus 
was passing through Jericho. The extraordinary 
beauty of his teaching had laid hold upon the 
imagination of the common people. A vast mul- 
titude collected round about him, and followed 
him. 

Now, there was a rich man — a collector of the 
taxes, called a publican, wdiose name was Zac- 
chreus — who greatly desired to catch a glimpse of 
this interesting man who was making so great a 
stir in the world. But he was small of stature, 
and, because of the crowd thronging Jesus, he 
could see nothing. Not to be disappointed, he 
ran on ahead, climbed a sycamore-tree, and 
waited for the multitude to pass by. What was 
his amazement when Jesus stopped at the tree, 
and, looking up, called him by name ! 

"Zacchreus, make haste, and come down ; for 
to-day I must abide at thy house." 

There is reward for those who are sufficiently 
in earnest to make some extraordinary effort, 
even if it be only out of mere curiosity, to see the 
truth. 

THE WOMAN WHO ARGUED 
WITH CHRIST 

A Greek woman, whose daughter was ill, hear- 
ing that the teacher from Nazareth had done 
some wonder-cures, came to Jesus and earnestly 
begged him to come and heal her child. Jesus, 
looking upon this foreign woman who despised 
the Jews and their religion, said: 



"Let the children first be filled: for it is not 
meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it 
unto the dogs." 

True was the saying, and the woman knew well 
how bitterly the different nations hated each 
other ; but she was kneeling at the feet of Christ 
for the sake of her child, and she made haste to 
answer his words as best she could: 

"Yes, Lord; yet the dogs under the table eat of 
the children's crumbs." 

For this fine saying, dictated by the depth of a 
mother's love, Jesus pronounced the blessing she 
craved. It was a saying which ascribed to the 
Master infinite power, which accepted the meek 
position he had assigned to her, and which made 
even the great matter of her daughter's healing a 
mere crumb from the very great possibilities of 
Christ's mercy and love and goodness. 



CLEARING THE TEMPLE 

It is related of Jesus that he was indignant when 
he beheld how mone}' had invaded the worship of 
the temple. The priests allowed money-changers 
to set up their stalls in the sacred buildings, and 
sellers of doves — birds which were often used for 
offerings at the altar — also had their cages there. 
Hearing the laughter and the gossip of these 
men, and seeing all the base love of gain behind 
their traffic, he stepped among them, threw down 
their tables, and exclaimed in righteous indigna- 
tion : 

"Is it not written. My house shall be called of 
all nations the house of prayer? but ye have made 
it a den of thieves." 

It was impossible, even in the temple, to escape 
from the rattle of money and the buzzing of 
commercial greed. Christ knew that a place of 
prayer must, above all things, be a place of si- 
lence. 



THE MAN UNDER THE FIG-TREE 

To a Jew named Nathanael, as he sat out of the 
heat of the sun under a fig-tree, some of the first- 
called disciples came with the joyful intelligence 
that they had found the Christ of whom Moses 
and the prophets had prophesied. When Na- 
thanael heard that they spoke of Jesus of Naza- 
reth, he replied : 

"Can there any good thing come out of Naza- 
reth?" 

"Come and see," was the sure answer. 

When Jesus saw Nathanael approaching, he 
said to those about him: 



BIBT.E STORIKS FOR 01,I)KR CHILDRKN 



355 



''Behold, an Israelite in.lccl, in whom ,s n,. "I'.efnre thai rhilii, eallcl thee, when thou wast 

§■"''«! luiiler the ri--li-re, I saw thee " 

NathanaeUh-ew near and asked: Kathanael wursln|,ed at that savnls,^ and [esns 

••^^ hence knowest thou me?" And Jesus an- then slmwed Inm how a very small' thhig had" con- 

swereJ: veried him. 



THE TWELVE APOSTLES 



THE LITTLE WE KXoW OF THE IMEX 
WHO K.XEW JESUS 

If we let our thoughts tra\-cl haek to the very 
dawn of man's history on the earth, we shall per- 
ceive with our mind's e\"e an immense and splen- 
did procession of kings, conquerors, poets, states- 
men, and inventors, moving with all the grandeur 
of their deeds, and all the surety of their imnKjr- 
tality, among a dense multitude of unknowai. 
nameless, and quite humhle people, whose lives 
seem pitiful and small in comparison wdth such 
illustrious greatness. 

But if we look very closely at these grand 
heroes, and do not let our eyes lie dazzled liv their 
splendor, we shall gradually sec that they are not 
vastly different from ordinarv men. And if we 
ask ourselves wdiom we should most like to know 
among all the millions wdio have lived and died 
in human history, we shall probably turn away 
from all the kings and all the conquerors, and 
choose the meekest and the least assuming of all 
that company. We shall choose the twelve dis- 
ciples wdao lived in the close friendship and the 
daily communion of the light of the world. 

Even Judas Iscariot would have more wimder- 
ful things to tell us than Alexander the i!ireat, 
Nero, or Julius Cajsar. Let us consider for a 
moment what it nnist have been to /I'/ioie Jesus 
as a fellow-man — to have looked into his e\'es. 
heard the tones of his voice, felt the magic and 
the beauty of his sublime charm. .Surely iKjthing 
on earth can compare with so wonderful an ex- 
perience. But wdien we look Ijack into the docu- 
ments of the past there is little, all too little, to be 
learned of these happy men. What we can learn 
of them by documents, however, may be increased 
by a reverent and alTectionatc imagination. Let 
us see what we can discover of their stories. 

One day there came to John the Baptist, wdio 
had stirred the wdiole countryside by his preach- 
ing of repentance, the village carpenter of Naza- 
reth, Jesus. Among those who listened to John 
was a young fisherman named Andrew. 

He was born in Bethsaida, in Galilee, and he 
earned his living with a brother named Simon 
Peter, sharing a house with him at Capernaum. 



It seems that his disposition was religious, that 
he was discontented with the formal religion of 
the time, that he felt a desire for some deeper 
and more spiritual connnunirm wdth the great and 
awful (iod wdio had createil heaven and earth. 
As he stooil listening to John he saw Jesus ap- 
proach, saw him present himself for baptism, and 
heard the Baptist pronounce words of special 
Idcssing on the young carpenter. Wdien he w-ent 
home he narrated the incident to his brother, and 
Simon Peter heard the tale wdth interest. Per- 
haps they discussed the matter as they mended 
their nets, or as they fished together under the 
stars on the Sea of (dalilee. Their partners. 
James and John, must ha\'e shared these inter- 
esting c(jnferences of the two brothers. 



TLIE C.\LL OE ST. ANDREW 

So.ME time passed, .and one day, wdien they were 
fishing from the shore. Jesus approached and 
said : 

"Eollow me. and I wall make you fishers of 
men." 

In this one sentence, so quiet and so simple, he 
flashed upon their conscience the light of eter- 
nit}'. They saw the immense comparison — fish- 
ing to earn their own bread, toiling to save others. 
Their old longing for a fuller life took complete 
possession of them. "And they straiglitway left 
their nets and followed him." 

Of the rest of St. Andrew's life we know little, 
except that he was ever on the fringe of that lit- 
tle inner lirothcrhood which was so close to Jesus. 
Peter and James and John were the nearest to 
lesus — James and John were brothers — and occa- 
sionally Andrew, the brother of Peter, was called 
into this inner circle — he was certainly near to 
tlic lo\-e of Jesus. It is said that he went as an 
apostle to many foreign countries; legend ascribes 
to him the working (d' extraordinary miracles: 
there was a gosjiel called "ddie .'\cts of Andrew." 
but it was not accepted Ijy the Church, and now 
it has vanished; tr.adilion ileclares that he died a 
martyr's death by crucifixion, on a cross shaped 
like an X. 



356 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



THE FAILURE OF PETER, AND ITS 
LESSON FOR US ALL 

Now, among the four fishing partners, the broth- 
ers Simon Peter and Andrew, and the brothers 
James and John, Simon Peter, by the very force 
of his character, was the chief. He was marked 
out during his discipleship for special favor. It 
was to liis home in Capernaum that Jesus re- 
sorted, and that humble home came to be spoken 
of among the brotherhood as "the house," as if it 
were the very home and center of the Master's 
life. Then it was to Peter that Jesus confided the 
care of the brotlierhood after the resurrection. 

Peter, impulsive Peter, was the kind of man 
we often meet in life, the man who is all courage 
one moment and all fear the next ; always want- 
ing to go forward and always drawing back. 

At last Peter became a bold and quite a beauti- 
ful preacher of the fatherhood of God and the 
brotherhood of man. It is quite likely that he 
perished on the cross, a willing martyr in the ser- 
vice of the Master, whom he adored. A more 
interesting, a more human, a more lovable man 
was not to be found among the twelve apostles. 
We admire the genius of Paul ; we give our love 
to Simon Peter. Of St. John we shall read, but 
now we will turn to the others in brief and see 
what we can learn of the remainder of the apos- 
tles of Christianity. 

James, the brother of John, is one of the inter- 
esting group of four who were always close to 
the heart and counsels of the Master. His devo- 
tion is unquestionable. The one imhappy incident 
in his life is that of the ambitious request that he 
might sit with his brother John, one on either 
side of Christ, in the kingdom of heaven. 

But who will judge him for such a plea? 
Surely, in a moment of deep affection he may 
have uttered his soul's longing. Love is often 
responsible for mistakes of judgment. But we 
know for certain that James was a devoted apos- 
tle. 



A BEAUTIFUL STORY OF JAMES, 
SON OF THUNDER 



THE 



Jesus named him, with John, "a son of thunder," 
as if to signify the passionate impetuosity of his 
nature; and, after the Crucifixion, James occu- 
pied a chief place among the Twelve. And when 
Agrippa I. determined to punish the followers of 
Jesus, it was upon James that his vengeance fast- 
ened. "Now, about that time Herod, the king, 
put forth his hands to afflict certain of the 
Church. And he killed James, the brother of 
John, with the sword." 



This shows us that James was a "dangerous" 
man to paganism. There is a legend that when 
the man who accused James heard the apostle's 
answer before the judges, he was filled with re- 
morse, and cried out that he, too, would follow 
Jesus ; and the story tells that on the way to the 
place of execution, this accuser, doomed to die 
with James, pleaded to the apostle for forgive- 
ness; and James, looking earnestly upon him, an- 
swered, "Peace be with thee," and kissed him. 
Thus died the son of thunder, one of the earliest 
martyrs, one of the most beautiful characters that 
loved and followed Jesus. 



JAMES AND PHILIP, OF WHOM ALMOST 
NOTHING IS KNOWN 

There is another James among the apostles, about 
whom we cannot be sure of many important facts. 
Who was James, the son of Alphseus? We can- 
not say. Nothing is known of him. According 
to certain people he is one of the same with 
James, "the brother of the Lord," about whom 
information is scant. It would certainly seem, 
from a plain reading of the narrative, that Jesus 
had four brothers— James, Joses, Judas, and Si- 
mon ; that James was half disposed to believe in 
Jesus; that after the Crucifixion Jesus appeared 
to James; and that James afterward became a pil- 
lar of the brotherhood in Jerusalem. One of the 
stories tells that James was of such dignity and 
power in Jerusalem that the Pharisees hoped to 
persuade him to denounce Jesus. Instead of de- 
nouncing Jesus, he confessed himself the servant 
and apostle of the Lord. So furious were the 
priests that they seized James then and there, and 
flung him down, killing him. 

Philip lived at Bethsaida, and was one of those 
who listened to the teaching of John the Baptist. 
He brought Nathanael to Jesus, and was ever an 
eager seeker after God. It was Philip who said 
to the Master: "Lord, show us the Father, and it 
sufficeth us"; it was Philip to whom Jesus made 
the great answer: "Have I been so long time 
with you, and yet hast thou not known me, 
Philip? He that hath seen me hath seen the 
Father." 

Philip's life as an apostle is utterly unknown. 
Some say that he died without confessing Jesus. 
Another story tells that he was crucified head 
downward. Jesus is said to have appeared to 
him and to have rebuked him for want of meek- 
ness. But all these are legends, not to be be- 
lieved, and making no difl^erence one way or the 
other to the spiritual truth of the religion of 
Jesus. 



BIBLE STORIES EOR OLDER CHILDREN 



357 



BARTHOLOMEW, THE IMISSIONARY, 
AND THOMAS, THE DOUBTER 

Bartholohew was brought to Jesus by Pliilip, 
and it is probable tliat he is the same man as Na- 
thanael. It seems that he became a missionary to 
the "Indians" — probabl)' a race of Jews in Arabia 
FeHx. Legend says that he was flayed ahve anil 
crucitied with his head downward in Armenia. 
All we can be more or less certain about concern- 
ing this companion of Philip is that he lived the 
devoted life of a missionary. Thonias, according 
to tradition, was a carpenter and builder. He 
lives forever as the man who would not believe 
in Jesus without material proof. He had known 
Jesus intimately, had served him, questioned him, 
listened to his teaching; but we read that wdien he 
saw the risen Jesus he could not and would not 
believe that his ^Master had truly risen. And then, 
believing, the doubting disciple, covered with 
amazement, exclaimed: "^Iv Lord, and my God!" 

Then answered Jesus : "Thomas, because thou 
hast seen me, thou hast believed ; blessed are they 
that have not seen, and yet have believed." 

As we might expect, this disciple wdio had 
doubted became a devoted missionary, and carried 
the good news of Jesus into Parthia and India. 
We lose sight of him altogether, and he goes out 
into the great darkness of the outer world preach- 
ing the religion of Jesus. 



MATTHE^^■, THE ONE RICH MAN 
AMONG THE TWEL\'E 

M.MTHEW interests us as, perhaps, the one rich 
man among the twelve apostles. Matthew the 
apostle is the same as Levi the publican, and he 
must have known comfort and luxury, and must 
have been a hard and avaricious man before the 
magic of Christ's personality called him to the 
life of a wandering disciple. After the Cruci- 
fixion, Matthew remained in Jerusalem and com- 
posed the famous Gospel containing the words of 
Jesus. Then he set out to preach Jesus along the 
coasts of the Black Sea. Although the Greek 
and Roman churches call him a martyr, it would 
seem that he died a natural death. 

Simon, the Canaanite, is supposed to have 
spread the knowledge of Jesus through Egypt, 
and to have died the death of a martyr. No defi- 
nite information concerning him is to be found 
in books worthy of attention. Some writers have 
taught that he preached Christianity in many 
countries, and even carried it as far as Britain ; 
but this is evidently a comparison of Simon with 
§impn Peter, the great head of the brotherhood 



having been credited with missionary labors all 
over the earth. 

Thaddeus, or Judas, has left behind no memory 
of his work. He is merely a name on the page of 
Holy Writ. \\T- know more of Mary and Martha 
than wc do of this companion of Jesus, chosen, 
wo may be sure, for some good reason, and des- 
tmed for work of immense importance. It is said 
that he became a missionary in Edessa, and we 
may be certain that by his influence the light of 
the world streamed through the darkness of pa- 
ganism. 



THE MEN WHO LOST THEMSELVES IN 
A GREAT LOVE EOR THE MASTER 

Nothing is more remarkable in the lives of the 
apostles than the manner in which they all com- 
pletely submerged themselves in the work of their 
divine ^L^ster. They might so easily have left 
records of their lives, told us stories, which would 
have immortalized their names; but they had one 
thought only, one thought in which they lost them- 
selves, and this thought was to spread abroad 
throughout the world the good news of Jesus. 

Matthias, wdio took the place of Judas Iscariot, 
has been supposed by many writers to be the 
same as Zacchreus and Barnabas. To him have 
been ascribed several writings, including a gospel. 

In the Greek version of the Acts, Matthias goes 
as a missionary to cannibals, and is thrown into 
prison by these savage people; Jesus appears to 
him in his dungeon and promises to send Andrew 
to deliver him. We read that "in accordance 
with this promise Andrew is miraculously brought 
to the city of the cannibals. He frees Matthias 
by a miracle and causes him to be removed on a 
cloud to a mountain where Peter was. Andrew, 
meanwdiile, remains in the city and is imprisoned 
and tortured. At length Jesus appears to him 
and heals him; and after founding a Christian 
church in the cruel and savage city, he finally 
leaves it in peace." 



THE MYSTERY OE THE GREAT CHANGE 
MADE BY ALMOST UNKNOWN MEN 

Such, in brief, is all we know about the twelve 
apostles. It is a confession of ignorance. The 
names of the Twelve are dear to us, we scarcely 
know why ; but when we seek to examine what 
we know about them, it is to find ourselves in- 
quiring about total strangers— that is to say, if we 
except such wonderful men as Simon Peter and 
John. But even in the case of these two men w 



358 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



have to acknowledge that our love and admiration 
are awakened by the stories of them in the Gos- 
pels, when they were disciples, and that we really 
know very little indeed about them as apostles. 

And this IS the great mystery. Christianity 
spread with astonishing and miraculous swiftness. 
Its course, humanly speaking, was partly con- 
trolled by the apostles. And yet these twelve 
men, who helped to revolutionize the whole world, 
have left to us no definite record of themselves 
or their work. Ag'ain we say, these apostles lost 
themselves utterly and gladly in the mystery and 
joy and triumph of their risen Christ. 

There was another apostle, in some respects the 
greatest of all, who did not belong to the group 
chosen by Jesus, and who at first opposed and 
persecuted the Christians. After his conversion 



he became a great preacher of Christianity, call- 
ing himself an apostle of Gentiles, because he 
preached the Gospel to people of many lands and 
nations, thus following the direction given by 
Jesus himself, which his own appointed apostles 
did not all understand in the way that he intended 
it. The life and work of the apostle Paul are 
well known both through his own writings in the 
New Testament and the books that have been 
written about him. We have only room to give 
an outline of his words and deeds, but all who 
read this should likewise read the Epistles (let- 
ters) of Paul in the New Testament, and also 
one at least of the many books that tell the story 
of his career. First, however, we will tell you 
something about another of the Twelve, of whom 
we promised to speak. 



JOHN, THE BELOVED DISCIPLE 



When John was first a disciple of our Lord he 
was cpiite young, perhaps not much more than a 
boy. But there was something so winning about 
him that the Lord always kept him close to him, 
and he was called the disciple whom Jesus loved. 
When our Lord was gone away into heaven, this 
disciple St. John, after living some time at Jeru- 
salem with the other apostles, went to the great 
city of Ephesus, and there he lived on after all 
the other apostles were dead, and he was the only 
one left. 

There is a beautiful picture which some one 
has painted of the old man sitting on a rock quite 
alone, and looking up into heaven, and seeing 
there his former companions in that better world 
still busying themselves with doing good and holy 
things, as we hope that all those whom we have 
loved and admired on earth are doing still. It 
was while he was living there that various stories 
are told of him tliat we do not find in the Bible, 
and we cannot be sure that thev are quite cer- 
tainly true. But thev are what the early Chris- 
tians believed about him. 

One is this. There came one day a huntsman 
who had heard so much of this great, wise old 
man that he went out of his way to see him; and 
to his surprise he found St. John gentlv stroking 
a partridge which he held in his hand, and he 
could not help sa\-ing how surprised he was to 
see so great a man employed on anything so small. 
Then St. John said, "What have you in vour 
hand?" And he said, "A bow." And St. John 
said, "Why is it not bent?" And the huntsman 
said, "Because then it would lose its strength." 



"That is just the reason," said St. John, "why I 
play with the partridge. It is that my mind may 
be kept strong by sometimes being at play." 

AV'hat do we learn from this story, my dear 
children? We learn from it that St. John, and 
great and good men like St. John, are glad now 
and then to see you at play, and to play like you. 
They are glad to see you happy : and they wish to 
be little children again like you, because that helps 
them afterward to work better. We learn from 
it to be kind as he was to little birds and beasts; 
never to torment them; to remember that kind- 
ness to dumb animals is a part of what God re- 
quires of you. 

There was an aged lady, very excellent, wise, 
and wonderfully learned, who lived to be very 
nearly as old as St. John, and who died in her 
ninety-second year. She said, a very short time 
before her death, "I hope that the time may come 
when children shall be taught that mercy to birds 
and beasts is part of religion." Yes, it ought to 
1)6 part of our religion. I trust that we shall 
make it so. Play, too, with your companions, 
like St. John ; remember always that all play and 
all holidays are given by God, to be like the un- 
bending of a bow, to help 3'ou to work better for 
the future. It is as when he said in his epistle, 
"I write unto vou, little children, because ye have 
known the Father." You have knowm our loving 
Father in heaven. He gives you all good things, 
work and play, play and work, to make your 
minds and hearts stronger, and better able to do 
his will. He gives you beautiful birds and beau- 
tiful animals to play with and to love. They, too. 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



3S9 



are his creatures; he has made you their guardi- 
ans and pla\niatcs, and lie has made tliem your 
companions and teachers. 

Another story is this. There was a young; man 
who had grown up under St. John's care in doing 
what was right, and St. John was vcrv fond of 
him. At last, after a time, St. John had to go 
awav, and gave this young man in charge to the 
bishop or chief pastor of Ephesus. and told him 
on no account to let him go astrav. Rut when 
St. John came back anil went to the bishop, with 
whom he had left his young pupil, he saw from 
the bishop's face that something sad had hap- 
pened. '■\Miat is it?" he said; and the bishop 
told him how this young man had fallen in with 
bad companions, who tempted him awav into the 
mountains, and there they were li\'ing the wild 
life of robbers, ani.l used to come tlown from the 
hills, as the robbers still do in those countries, to 
carry off travelers and ask a ransom for them. 

As soon as St. John heard this, he immediately 
set oft into the mountains. He was not frightened 
by the thought of the robbers, he cared only to 
save this poor young man from his bad courses. 
And when the robbers saw him coming, they said 
among themselves, "Here comes some one that we 
can carry off" ; and down rushed the young man 
who had become their chief, and found himself 
face to face with his beloved old master and 
friend St. John. And the moment he saw him he 
burst into tears and fell at his feet, all his better 
feelings revived, and instead of his carrying otf 
St, John, St. John brought him back to good ways, 
and he never went astray afterward. 

What do we learn from this? John had taught 
this young man as a little child to love and know 
the good Father of all. He had taught him as a 
young man to overcome the wicked one ; that is, 
to get the better of the evil that there is even in 
the best things. And now when he went astray 
he never lost his interest in him; he went after 
him even at the risk of his own life, to bring him 
back, and he succeeded. 

This story is full of instruction even for us. It 
brings back to us some of St, John's own words, 
''Little children, keep yourselves from idols." Al- 
though we have now no idols like those which 
the heathens worship, yet there are many idols 
still. If a little brother or sister will insist on 
having a toy for himself, and not let any one else 
play with it, that is his "idol," If any boy who is 
growing up thinks of nothing but games and 
amusement, and neglects his lessons, then games 
become his idol. If a young man goes, as did that 
one in the story, after bad companions, they be- 
come his idols. Keep yourselyes from all these 
idols; and all of you, O children, boys, and young 



men, remember that there is no greater pleasure 
you can give to your parents and teachers than to 
cimtinue in the good thoughts and words that they 
have taught you ; remember that there is no 
greater pain for them than to think that you have 
forgotten what they told you, that you have 
ceased to care for them, and have gone off into 
evil wa>-s. And oh, how happy for \-ou, how 
happy for them, if when you have gone astray, or 
done anything wrong, you come again like that 
young man and acknowledge your faults ! anrl the 
good old friend, whoever it is, father, or uncle, or 
brother, or teacher, will receive you back again 
as if nothing had happened. "I have no greater 
joy," St. John said, "than to hear that my chil- 
dren walk in truth." 

Be truthful in all things, acknowledge your 
faults as did the }-oung robber chief, do not keep 
them back from your parents or friends. Never 
tell a lie to conceal what you have done wrong. 
Have no tricks or schemes to make others think 
you better than you are. Tell the truth, and 
shame the devil. 

There is one other story. Wdien St. John was 
very old indeed, when he was almost a hundred, 
when he could no longer walk or speak as he had 
done in his youth, he used to be carried into the 
market-place in the arms of his friends, and the 
people, old, and young, and children, gathered 
round him to hear the farewell words of their 
venerable teacher. And then he would say, "Lit- 
tle children, love one another"; and when they 
asked for soinething else, he said again, "Little 
children, love one another"; and when they asked 
him \et again, still he said, "Little children, love 
one another." And they said, "Why do you al- 
ways say this, and nothing else?" And he said, 
"Because this is the best thing I can say; if you 
love one another, that is all that I have to tell 
vou." 

What do we learn from thisi" We learn that 
the thing which St. John, the beloved disciple, 
was most anxious to teach, was that those whom 
he cared for should love one another. It is the 
same as when he said in his letter to them, "My 
little children, let us love one another in deed and 
in truth." And that is what we say to you now, 
"Little children, love one another." Little broth- 
ers, be kiml to your little brothers and sisters. 
Boys at school, be kind to those who are younger 
and weaker than you. You can show them kind- 
ness and love in many, many ways; you can keep 
from teasing or hurting them, you can prevent 
others from" teasing or hurting them; and that 
will make them love and be kiml to you. Little 
boys will never forget the kindness they have re- 
ceived from bigger boys at school. Brother-- and 



360 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



sisters who have tjiven up lovingly and kindly 
when they were quite small will give up lovingly 
and kindly all their lives. 

Love one another in deed and in truth ; do not 
pick out each other's faults ; make the best of 
what there is good in each other; be glad when 
you hear anything good of those who live with 
you. Never quarrel ; it does no good to any one. 
Never be jealous; jealousy is one of the most 
mischievous, hateful things that can get into any 
one's mind. Never tell bad stories one of an- 
other. Never listen to bad stories of other peo- 
ple. When you ask to be forgiven in your prayers 
every night, always try in your hearts to forgive 
and forget what hasbeendoneto vexyou intheday. 



This is the love which St. John wished to see. 
This is the love which Jesus Christ wishes to see 
in all his disciples, old and young. 

Always bear in mind that the first thing to be 
done is to try to help and befriend some one else. 
That will make you generous and just; that will 
mak(j you active and courageous ; that will make 
you feel how wicked it is to lead others into ■ 
wrong, and how happy and excellent a thing it 
is to help others to be good. That will make 
you better able to love and to do good to men 
when you grow up to be men yourselves. That 
will the better enable you to love God, who can 
only be loved by those who love their fellow- 
creatures. 



PAUL, THE APOSTLE OF CHRIST 



We have followed the narrative of the Master's 
life. We have listened to his parables, we have 
heard his words, wc have seen his acts. Wc 
know, from his own lips, wh\' he came into the 
world, and what it was he rc\'ealed. He came to 
bring light, to reveal the fatherhood of God and 
the brotherhood of man. Now we ask ourselves 
how this gentle teaching conquered the world. 
The answer to this question brings us to the life 
of St. Paul. The disciples of Jesus formed a 
society to teach the good tidings of Jesus. They 
had no thought of destroying the Jewish religion; 
they wanted to carry it forward with the spirit 
of their Master. They were a brotherhood, com- 
posed of air who followed the teaching of Jesus. 
This was the beginning of the Church. In the 
homes of believers, the Apostles preached, and 
the Church grew. How tragedy overswept this 
peaceful society, and how the mustard-seed was 
scattered, we read in the life of St. Paul. 

The town of Tarsus was a bus)' place. It was 
the capital of a Roman province ; its streets were 
full of merchants from many quarters of the 
world ; ships were always loading and unloading 
at its wharves ; besides this, the town was a seat 
of learning which attracted scholars from afar. 

Two things we must notice in this beautiful 
towii, which had the snow-capped Taurus range 
of mountains behind it, with the broad waters of 
the Cydnus flowing through it to the neighbor- 
ing sea, and a green and fertile valley all round, 
as delightful to the eye as it was prosperous to 
the husbandman. These two things are the wick- 
edness of the people and the learning taught in its 
famous schools. 

No words can exaggerate the hideous depravity 
of the people living in this pagan city. They had 



ceased to believe seriously in their gods and god- 
desses. They could not see in life anything seri- 
ous or noble or beautiful. They believed that at 
their death all was over, that they would never 
know or feel anything more, that they would for- 
ever cease to live. And so they said to them- 
selves: "As we must surely die, and death may 
come for us at any moment, let us eat, drink, and 
be merry." 

In such a wicked city, what was the learning 
taught by the great professors? It was only the 
profitless learning of grammar-books, silly little 
disputes about the meanings of words. The pro- 
fessors, far from being good men of honorable 
and noble lives, were a quarrelsome, stupid, nar- 
row-minded, and conceited set of coxcombs. 
Some of them were also criminals. The scholars 
who flocked to them laughed at these follies and 
crimes; they saw nothing in such things; what 
they had come to Tarsus for was learning, and 
learning thev received. None of them perceived 
how worthless such learning must be if its very 
professors were vain, petulant, and even criminal. 

It is most important to know of this state of 
things in Tarsus at the beginning of our study of 
St. Paul's life. The whole character of this re- 
markable man depends upon our clear knowledge 
of his native city. Let us have a distinct picture 
in our mind of this beautiful and busy place, 
crowded by a population devoted to luxury, vice, 
folly, and an absurd and profitless learning. 

JEWS IN TARSUS 

In this city there was a number of Jews among 
the foreign element. Some of them, no doubt, 
were not unlike the rest of the population; but 



BIHL.E sroRII'-.S FOR ORDKR C'MILDKICN 



361 



the great majority kept themselves alnof from 
the wiekedness ami liorrdr nf tlieir neighbors. 
Particularly was this the case with the Pharisees, 
the strict Jews de\-oteil to the Law. who were 
even then looking for the Messiah. 

It was as the strictest of Jews that the little 
Saul grew up in Tarsus. lie learneil tn speak 
Greek, hecausc e\-ery one spoke (>eek ; hut he 
certainly did not study (ireek hterature. We can 
he quite certain that he ne\er read a page of 
Plato or Aristotle, and nc\-cr listened tn the music 
of Homer. lie \\\as taught Ilclirew; he was 
trained carefully in ever\ahing to ilo with the 
lewish religion ; his chief literature, if not his 
onlv literature, was the Scripture. 

But he had eyes in his head, and could see the 
horror of life in Tarsus, and could realize the 
uselessness of Greek learning which made people 
so selfish ami bad. The impression he received 
through his e\'es of this pagan citv was to last him 
all his life, was to fill him with an energy against 
sin hardl}' equaled in the history of the world. 



JEWISH SER\'ICE OE COXEIRMATIOX 

Now, there is a habit among the Jews, lasting to 
this day, which is verv instructive and is founded 
upon the wisdom of the ages. WItcu a boy reaches 
his thirteenth year he is confirmed. This cere- 
monv of confirmation is, in some respects, not 
unlike the Christian ser\-ice of confirmation, but 
it has profound differences. The Jewish Iioy is 
told at his confirmation that hitherto his father 
has been responsible for his sliortcomings, but 
that now he himself is responsible. 

Responsibility educates. He is put upon his 
honor to play the man. It is for him to know that 
goodness and evil are matters for his own de- 
cision; he can choose wdiether he will be a good 
man or a bad man; he is responsible; if he .goes 
to ruin, he will have no one but himself to blame. 

To Saul, who was marked out for the great 
honor of serving the Law of God as a Pharisee, 
and who was a boy with a natural morality and 
an instinctive hatred of wdiat is base, this service 
must have come with tremendous meaning. The 
sights he had seen in the streets of Tarsus must 
have returned to his minrl as he bowed himself 
before Jehovah anfl felt the responsibility of life 
pressing on him. What could he do for the God 
of Israel? 

SAUL UNDER GAMALIEL 

He went to Jerusalem to study under the greatest 
doctor of that period, the Rabbi Gamahel. Ga- 



maliel was not like the Pharisees whom Jesus 
condemnerl. He was a good man; he had what 
we call a liberal mind — that is to say, he was not 
narrow and bitter — and he thought more of the 
spirit (if Scripture th.an of the letter. He was 
line of the best t_\qies of learned lews. Saul could 
hardly ha\-e had a better teacher than (iamaliel. 
I'uit there was one thing that sorely troubled the 
anihitiiius brain of this inipil from Tarsus. Ac- 
cording to the Jewish religion, God could only 
he served by obe\'ing the Law. The Law was an 
immense number of rules and regulations. Men 
had to he careful abnut what they ate and drank, 
what the_\' wore, and a thousand other things. 

All day long, even by the most harmless and 
gracious action, thev were reminded of some 
angry law. Saul felt that this was very hard. 
He wished that he could serve the God whom he 
adored in some other way. Obedience to any law 
was not enough ; he wanted to love the mighty 
Power who had made the universe, and had taught 
Israel the things of eternal life. However, it 
seemed that the onlv thing to do was to master 
the Law, and to obey it in every detail. 

So .Saul of Tarsus bent his great mind to the 
study of the Law, and before him he soon saw the 
straight road of a work for God along which he 
could travel. He consecrated his life to over- 
throwing and bringing to punishment all those 
wdio were seeking to change the ancient religion 
or were attemjiting to set up religions of their 
own. He felt that no higher work could come 
into his hands. We may fairly think of him at 
this period of his life as the Sir Galahad of the 
jews: a pure and noble man, arming himself for 
the glory of God and riding forth to punish the 
enemies of heaven. 

Paul himself has told us that he never saw 
Icsus. We think it is almost certain that, during 
the last months of the greatest tragedy in the 
world's historv, Saul of Tarsus was far away 
preaching the Law to those Jews in foreign lands 
who were beginning to forget God. If, in those 
distant scenes, any news reached him of Christ's 
death, he may have thought the matter of very 
little importance. He did not return to take part 
in stamping out this new rebellion. It is not until 
four years after the death of Jesus that we meet 
with Saul of Tarsus as a fierce and bitter perse- 
cutor of the despised Christians. 



STEPHEN'S VISION OE CHRISTIANITY 
AS THE GREAT WORLD RELIGION 

Amon'g the converts to the rude Galilean fisher- 
men was a brilliant and able man named Stephen. 



362 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



This disciple, instead of preaching to the multi- 
tude, preached to the cultured Jews in synagogues 
which were affected by the Greek spirit of learn- 
ing. 

The Apostles still thought that Jesus had in- 
tended to preach a new form of the Jewish re- 
ligion. They had ver}^ little thought about the 
foreigners, whom they called Gentiles. All their 
efforts were made from within the Jewish Church. 
Stephen, on the other hand, was gifted with true 
vision. He looked away from the Jewish religion 
and from the narrow restrictions of a single race, 
and saw the secret of Jesus spreading among all 
nations and melting all religions into one. Such a 
man, so gifted, so brave, so eloquent, and so at- 
tractive, soon became marked down for death. 
He was dangerous. 

He was arrested and brought before the coun- 
cil in Jerusalem. False witnesses came, who said: 
"This man ceaseth not to speak blasphemous 
words against this holy place and the Law ; for 
we have heard him say that this Jesus of Naza- 
reth shall destroy this place, and shall change the 
customs wdiich Moses delivered us." And all that 
sat in the council, looking steadfastly on him, saw 
his face as it had been the face of an angel. 

"Are these things so?" demanded the high 
priest of the fearless prisoner. 



HOW STEPHEN BECAME THE FIRST 
CHRISTIAN MARTYR 

Then Stephen, addressing them as "Men, breth- 
ren, and fathers," made a speech showing that the 
history of Israel was but a preparation for the 
coming of the Just One, whom they had mur- 
dered. At this the council were filled with rage 
against him. "But he, being full of the Holy 
Ghost, looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw 
the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right 
hand of God ; and said, Behold, I see the heavens 
opened, and the Son of man standing on the 
right hand of God ! 

"Then they cried out with a loud voice, and 
stopped their ears, and ran upon him with one 
accord, and cast him out of the city, and stoned 
him ; and the witnesses laid down their clothes at 
a )'oung man's feet, whose name was Saul. And 
they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and say- 
ing. Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. And he kneeled 
down, and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not 
this sin to their charge. And when he had said 
this, he fell asleep." 

So died the first Christian Catholic, and the 
first Christian martyr. 

Now, in the terrible punishment of stoning to 



death— if we shut our eyes for a moment and 
consider the agony of such a death we shall bet- 
ter realize the long-drawn torture of Stephen- 
it was one of the laws that the witnesses them- 
selves should inflict the punishment. In one sense 
this was a just enactment. It prevented, in some 
cases, the awful wickedness of false evidence. It 
is one thing to swear away a man's character; it 
is another thing to know that in swearing away 
the character you will yourself have to stone the 
man to death. 

But in this case the false witnesses were 
hounded on by religious zeal. Stephen was an 
enemy of their religion. They thought nothing 
of swearing away his character; they counted it 
a righteous deed to stone him to death. 

In order to do this work of stoning, it was nec- 
essary to lay aside certain of their garments so 
that the arms might be free. The witnesses in 
this case laid their garments down at the feet of 
a young man whose name was Saul. Saul, as we 
should say, "looked after their clothes." He was 
evidently some one of position: the witnesses 
knew that no one would dare to lay hands upon 
their garments while Saul stood by. 

So we imagine that Saul the missionary, al- 
ready a man of prominence among the Pharisees, 
returning to Jerusalem after his travels abroad, 
found this new sect of Galileans giving trouble 
in the Holy City, and witnessed with approval the 
death of the first martyr. It is one of the strik- 
ing things in history that Saul of Tarsus, destined 
to become Paul the Apostle, should have wit- 
nessed the death of Stephen. For it was in the 
providence of God that Saul should be the very 
man to carry to a glorious and triumphant issue 
the idea of Stephen that Jesus came to save not 
the Jews only, but all mankind. The beautiful 
spirit of Stephen, as it mounted from the bruised 
and bleeding body to heaven, may have seen his 
mantle descending upon the shoulders of the 
young man at whose feet his murderers had laid 
their garments. 



HOW SAUL BEGAN TO PERSECUTE 
THE FOLLOWERS OF JESUS 

We may be quite sure that Saul of Tarsus was 
one of the most loyal and upright Jews alive in 
his day at Jerusalem. No man with a cleaner 
conscience or a more unwearying will ever la- 
bored to keep the ancient religion of Israel pure 
and undefiled. When he saw how Stephen met 
his death, he realized that the followers of Jesus 
were likely to prove the most dangerous enemies 
of the ancient faith. With all the burning energy 



BIBLE STORIKS FOR OLDKR CHILDREN 



36- 



of his extraordinary character, he inimeihately 
threw himself into the work (if exteriiiiiialinL;^ this 
new rehgion, which presunieil to set itself np 
against the ancient religion of Ahrahani, Isaac, 
and Jacob. 

^^■e have no narrative of Saul's proceedings in 
Jerusalem when he learned of this new sect. We 
only know that he at once went to the high priest, 
obtained authority to set about a \-igorous perse- 
cution of the Xazarenes, as the followers of Je- 
sus of Nazareth were called, and proceeded imme- 
diately to carry out this mission. We know, too, 
on his own confession, that he bound and impris- 
oned women, that he scourged Nazarenes in every 
synagogue, and that, forcing the most enthusiastic 
of these people before the Sanhedrin, or highest 
court, he gave his vote for their death. It is per- 
fectly certain that Saul of Tarsus martvred manv 
of the first followers of Jesus of Nazareth. So 
thoroughly did he do his work in Jerusalem that 
at last he could congratulate himself that the new 
sect was stamped out. The brethren who re- 
mained had either escaped his notice or been res- 
cued from his power. But news reached him that 
the heresy stamped out in the Hoh' City was 
springing up in Damascus. Here was a new field 
for his energy. To the high priest, therefore, he 
went, who was satisfied by all his previous cruel- 
ties. The high priest gave the letters which au- 
'.horized Saul to set up his court at Damascus, 
and to bring from thence in chains all Nazarenes 
whom he could find, both men and women, to 
await such mercy as Stephen's murder might lead 
them to hope for at the hands of the supreme 
tribunal. 

When Saul started from Jerusalem on his long 
journey to Damascus, he thought that he was set- 
ting out on an embassy of the highest importance. 
He did not realize that this journey was to be- 
come immortal, that so long as the world lasted 
men of all nations would look back to it, that it 
would remain written across the page of history 
forever as the most momentous journey ever 
made by mortal man. 

In what form did he set out? It was with 
some splendor and display of authority. He was 
a Pharisee, a rabbi, the representative of the San- 
hedrin, the viceroy of Israel's God. His caval- 
cade would consist of horses and mules hand- 
somely caparisoned; his retinue would show him 
a courtier-like reverence and respect ; he would 
travel with all dignity and comfort on a journey 
as long as that from Jerusalem to Damascus, 150 
miles. 

How different the state and ceremony of this 
departure out of Jerusalem from that entry into it 
of the meek and lowly Saviour of the world, Jesus ! 



THE THOUCIITS OF SAUL AS HE 
JOURXEVED TO DAMASCUS 

i\I,\Y we imagine the traveler's thought turning 
to the Messiah of the despised and hated Naza- 
renes? They said that their Messiah gave rest 
and peace; they died for their faith. It may be 
asked whether these immortal words did not rise 
in his mind: "Surely he hath borne our griefs and 
carried our sorrows ; yet we did esteem him 
stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he 
was wounded for our transgressions, he was 
bruised for our iniquities ; the chastisement of 
our peace was upon him ; and with his stripes we 
are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; 
we have turned every one to his own way; and 
the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all." 

How strange if these words crossed the mind 
of the tired and restless persecutor, making him 
yearn for some peace he knew not of, some rest 
he had not yet imagined. As his cavalcade jour- 
neyed beneath the burning sun, or as the watch- 
fires of his encampment answered the stars burn- 
ing in the midnight sky, surelv he must have con- 
trasted manv times his idea and expectation of the 
Messiah with the stories he had heard of this 
false Messiah worshiped bv the Nazarenes. 

As the long journey drew to an end, they left the 
desert and came into one of the most entrancing 
scenes on this beautiful earth — the view of Da- 
mascus, with its white domes, roofs, and walls 
shining in the sun, seen across a valley rich and 
fertile, watered by the two famous rivers of Da- 
mascus, Abana and Pharpar, and so full of color 
and perfume and delight that the traveler feels 
himself in the fields of paradise. 



SAUL'S THREATENINGS AND 
HIS VISION 

The sight of Damascus spurred the energies of 
Saul. There lay his work. Away with lounging 
and sick thoughts ! Away with dreams and idle 
questions ! To work, to work ! Within those 
walls swarmed the infidels of Israel, the mean 
and despicable Nazarenes, who would make the 
proud race of Israel the laughing-stock of the 
world. It was his work to crush this hateful sect ; 
to destroy and utterly root out the enemies of 
Israel. On, with all haste! Jerusalem was de- 
livered from the curse; Damascus now should 
feel the wrath of Jehovah. 

And so, in the glare and blinding heat of noon, 
this great man pressed on across the smihng vaL 
ley to Damascus, breathing threats and slaughter 
against the disciples of the Lord. 



364 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



Suddenly, in the silence of the noontide, ''there 
lightened a great Hght, The whole valley van- 
ished in a burst of flame. It seemed as though 
the whole atmosphere had caught fire, and they 
were suddenly wrapped in sheets of blinding 
splendor." 

Saul fell upon the earth. While he was bowed 
to the dust, in his soul sounded a voice, saying, 
"Saul, Saul, wdiy persecutest thou me?" In the 
silence of his stricken soul Saul questioned: 
"Who art thou, Lord?" and the voice answered: 
'T am Jesus of Nazareth, whom thou persecutest." 

And his dazzled eyes beheld the form of him 
who uttered this reproach, and the form was that 
of Jesus, the Christ of the despised Nazarenes. 

As Saul heard the voice and saw the form of 
that Jesus whom he had persecuted, his soul must 
have been so stricken with remorse that no actual 
thoughts passed through his mind. But after- 
ward, when his brain had somewhat recovered, 
surely he must have reflected deeply on the 
words : "I am Jesus of Nazareth." 

Jesus, we notice, never speaks of God in tre- 
mendous and awe-inspiring language. He taught 
that God is love, and gave to him the simple hu- 
man name of Father. Jesus never used big words. 
He never frightened the soul. He pointed to the 
sparrows on the roof of a house, to the hen gath- 
ering her chickens under her wings, to the little 
lilies of the field, and joined the thought of God 
to those common, everyday things and included 
them in the love of God's fatherhood. And so 
the simple words that came to Saul, "I am Jesus 
of Nazareth," were a most lovely and convincing 
conclusion to the Master's utterances on earth. 
We think that Jesus in his glory and power was 
the same Jesus who saw the glory and love of God 
in the fields of Galilee. 

To Saul, of course, the words had the special 
significance which the word Nazareth would pos- 
sess for a great Pharisee. But, even here, do we 
not feel the beauty and tenderness of Christ's 
character? In that simple rebuke he taught Saul 
the whole lesson of Christianity — humility. To 
consider for an instant that God could speak to 
humanity from the cross of shame seemed to a 
Jew blasphemy. One can feel that the soul of 
Saul must have reeled and staggered under the 
load which this revelation laid upon his reason. 



SAUL'S TREMBLING ENTRY INTO THE 
CITY OF DAMASCUS 

Saul was bidden by the voice to rise, and go into 
the city, where it should be told him what to do. 
Whether Saul understood what had happened to 



him we do not know. Whether at that moment 
he realized what had befallen him we cannot tell. 
But when he rose from the dust, if he was not 
Paul the Apostle, he had ceased to be Saul the 
Persecutor. And his eyes were blinded. 

Dean Farrar has described this moment with 
great force. "Saul rose, and all was dark. The 
dazzling vision had passed away, and with it also 
the glittering city, the fragrant gardens, the burn- 
ing noon. Amazed and startled, his attendants 
took him by the hand and led him to Damascus. 
Fie had meant to enter the city in all the impor- 
tance of a commissioner from the Sanhedrin, to 
be received with distinction, not only as himself 
a great 'pupil of the wise,' but even as the repre- 
sentative of all authority which the Jews held 
most sacred. 

"And he had meant to leave the city, perhaps, 
amid multitudes of his applauding countrymen, 
accompanied by a captive train of he knew not 
how many dejected Nazarenes. How different 
was his actual entrance ! 

"He was led through the city gate, stricken, de- 
jected, trembling, no longer breathing threats and 
slaughter, but longing only to be the learner and 
the suppliant and the lowest brother among those 
whom he had intended to destroy. He was igno- 
miniously let out of the city, alone, in imminent 
peril of arrest or assassination, through a win- 
dow, in a basket, down the wall." 

There was living in Damascus a Jew named 
Ananias, one of the most earnest believers in 
Jesus of Nazareth. To this man came a vision in 
the night, a dream wherein he heard the voice of 
God speaking to his soul. 

And the voice said to him : "Arise, and go into 
the street which is called Straight, and inquire 
in the house of Judas for one called Saul, of 
Tarsus : for, behold, he prayeth, and hath seen in 
a vision a man named Ananias coming in, and 
putting his hands on him, that he might receive 
his sight." 

The words, "For, behold, he prayeth," have 
gone to the ends of the world, carrying hope and 
consolation to a multitude of souls. Saul was 
praying to God, praying to receive his sight -the 
true sight of his soul. And God's answer was to 
send human help. Prayer is not answered by 
supernatural magic ; it is answered by God, but 
through human means. These words light up for 
us the darkness which enshrouds Saul's life for 
the first three days after his entrance into Da- 
mascus. Those three days were spent in prayer. 
He was blind : he was under the shock of his 
spiritual experience. In the house, to which his 
people had guided him, he lay in a silence that 
was like death, praying. 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



365 



He pravcd to Giiil for ligiil. 

In his dreaui, Ananias said lo the voice wliich 
had spoken to him: "Lord, 1 have heard h\- many 
of this man, liow mueli evil lie hath done to tliy 
saints at Jernsalem : and liere lie hath anlhorilv 
from the chief priests to bind all (hat call on thy 
name." 

But the voice answered : "( in th}- \va\-: fur he is 
a chosen vessel unto nie, to hear ni\- name Ijeforc 
the Gentiles, and kings, and the children of Is- 
rael: for I ^\■ill shew him Imw greiit things he 
must suffer for m\- name's s:ike." 

To disobe)' \\as no longer possible. Ananias, 
like the other faithful Xazarenes in Damascus, 
had been dreading the approach of this terrible 
envoy of the Sanhedrin ; he had been expecting a 
summons to appear before Saul : perhaps he had 
anticipated scourging and death. 



HOAV SAUL PERISHED AND PAUL THE 
APOSTLE LR'ED IX HIS PLACE 

And now he was bidden to go to this slaughterer 
and persecutor, and was assured that Saul of Tar- 
sus, with the blood of X'azarenes on his hands, 
should carrv the religion of Jesus to the foreign 
nations of the earth, should uphold it before 
kings, and should preach it even to the Jews, 
whose chief minister he had Iieen in crushing it 
under the heel of persecution. 

"And Ananias went his way, and entered into 
the house: and putting his hands on him said, 
Brother Saul, the Lord, even Jesus, that appeared 
unto thee in the way as thou camest, hath sent 
me, that thou mightest receive thy sight, and be 
filled with the Holy Ghost." 

At these words it was as if suddenly scales 
dropped from before Saul's eyes. He received 
his sight, he rose up, and Ananias baptized him 
in the name of Jesus of X'azareth. Saul had per- 
ished. Paul the ^Apostle rose from his knees, 
feeling in every fiber of his soul that "God had 
chosen him to know his will, and see that Just 
One, and hear the voice of his mouth, and be his 
witness unto all men of what he had seen and 
heard.'' Henceforth Paul was the servant of 
Jesus Christ. 

A chance saying of Paul has told us something 
of the interlude between the hour when Ananias 
laid his hands upon him and the hour wdien he 
stood up in the synagogues, and, to the amaze- 
ment of those who heard him, preached the Christ 
whom he had so resolutely persecuted. 

Three years were to pass before the Jews in 
the synagogues were to exclaim ; 'Ts not this he 
that destroyed them which called on this name in 



Jerusalem, ;md came hither for that intent, that 
he might bring them hound unto the chief 
linests.''" h"(,i- three \-e;n-s this fiery and impul- 
sn-e scholar (if the Sanhedrin gave himself up to 
a hearl-searehing examin.ation, and lo coiumnnion 
with Christ, the Son of (jod, with Jesus of Naza- 
reth. 

THE TURNING ROUND IN A MAN'S LIFE 
THAT WE C.VLL CONVERSION 

.\kd now, before we follow the wonderful and 
adventurous life of Paul the Apostle, let us see 
that we understanrl the meaning of the word con- 
I'l'/'oTio/;. This noble word has been degraded. It 
has Ijeen blasphemously used bv people whose 
li\-es, far from enticing men to Christ, have re- 
])elled them. Rut conversion, in its true sense, 
means simply liiruiiii/ round. \ man's life is go- 
ing in one direction ; he turns round and goes in 
the oppcisitc direction — that is conversion. 

The Conversion of Paul, the chief event in the 
history of the world next to the life of Jesus, was 
line of those total and complete revolutions in 
character before which science is dumb and all 
men rc\'erent. 

It is not casv to change an opinion, but it is 
one of the verv Iiardest things in the world to 
stand up and say before everybody: 'T was 
wrong." 

Paul had [lersecuted the Christians with fury 
and without pitw Now he had to acknowledge 
that he was wrong. yVnd what did this mean? It 
meant that to his personal friends of the Sanhe- 
drin he must say, "You are wrong"; and to the 
humble, tremliling Nazarenes, whom he had at- 
tacked and destroyed, "Vou are right." How 
angry those ])roud friends would be ! How sus- 
picious would be the frightened Nazarenes! Im- 
agine the wolf saying to his pack, "You are wrong 
to attack the sheepfold" ; and saying to the sheep, 
"Let me enter, for I wish to be like you." Can 
we not see how difficult was the position of Paul 
at this trying time? 



PAUL RETURNS TO DAMASCUS 

In his three years of retirement the soul of this 
great man was being slowly and mercifully pre- 
pared for the fortunes of a career unmatched in 
history. 

What visions came to him, what whispers from 
the spirit-world, wc do not know. Perhaps he 
was left entirely to himself. But at last the long 
\'\gi\ came to an end. Convinced that he must give 
bis vision to mankind, he came again to Damascus. 



366 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



He was received with some natural misgiving, 
which deepened into alarm when he appeared in 
the synagogue and disputed with the Jews con- 
cerning Jesus. He not only angered the loyal 
Jews; he annoyed the Nazarenes as well. He 
was too much in earnest. 

Paul argued with an energy which challenged 
the learned doctors to give a decided answer. He 
was not merely disputing on an interesting sub- 
ject of conversation. He was showing men that 
God had fulfilled prophecy, that Christ had come, 
that the old order was finished, that a new age 
had dawned upon the world. Either this was false 
or true. If false, let them refute him. If true, 
let them bow down and worship. 

So earnest was Paul that at last the Jews woke 
up to their danger. This man would disturb the 
quiet peace in which they lived, and it was quite 
clear that they must endeavor to get rid of him. 

The gates of the city were watched to prevent 
him from escaping, and Paul learned that his 
doom was decreed. What ! At the very begin- 
ning of his career, before he had spoken to any 
of the apostles who had seen and known Jesus, 
before he had preached to the foreign nations, 
before he had told all the world of his wonderful 
vision — no, this was impossible ! He was told by 
some people who were favorable to him how he 
might escape from the city. 

He was led to a house built over and into the 
city wall which had a window opening on the 
country outside. When night had fallen, and the 
patrol had passed beneath the window, Paul was 
placed in a large basket, and was lowered safely 
to the ground. 

This was the beginning of a life full of the 
strangest adventures and escapes. 

From the wall of the city which would not have 
him, the lonely man turned away, and through the 
darkness of the night set his face toward Jerusa- 
lem. 

PAUL AND PETER MEET 

The return to Damascus, where Paul was all but 
a stranger, must have been hard work for a proud 
nature ; but can we imagine anything harder for 
such a nature as this than a return to the capital 
of his nation, the seat of its government, and the 
site of its holy temple? 

He had been, perhaps, the most famous Jew in 
Jerusalem. His friendships were among the 
proud and powerful Pharisees. His fame was the 
fame of a master man, a leader, a ruler of the 
most shining and distinguished qualities. And 
now he was returning on foot, as an outlaw, a 
friendless, homeless, penniless wanderer on the 



earth — worse than this, as a traitor and an apos- 
tate. 

As he saw the walls and roofs of the holy city 
shining in the sun, and pictured to himself the 
familiar scenes in the narrow streets, surely he 
must have shrunk from entering the gate, to be 
at once detected and pointed at as Saul of Tarsus, 
who had become a hated Nazarene. 

But one great aspiration upheld him in this 
difficult hour. Hidden away in some mean house 
in one of the poor and wretched back streets of 
this glorious city was a Galilean fisherman, Peter 
by name, who had lived with Christ, the Son of 
God, who had heard his voice, looked into his 
eyes, broken bread with him, sat with him on the 
Mount of Olives, and asked him concerning the 
kingdom of heaven. 

To reach this Galilean fisherman was now the 
desire of the once proud Pharisee. His bitter 
loneliness could only be supported by the com- 
pany of one who had known Jesus, and who could 
tell him all that he desired to know about that 
wondrous revelation of God. And so, through 
the humiliation and bitterness of his return, Paul 
felt the joy that was before him, and hastened his 
steps toward the city. 

It seems that he met with Barnabas, a friend of 
his, one who had known him in the past, who be- 
lieved in him, and knew the story of his conver- 
sion. By this good and excellent man, destined 
to be the companion of his life, Paul was led 
to the little house where Peter the fisherman 
lodged. 

We could well sacrifice some of the chief books 
in the world for a single chapter describing to us 
the meeting of Peter the Galilean fisherman and 
Paul the former Pharisee. No meeting that we 
can think of in history is more dramatic. 

The characters of the two men seize our imagi- 
nation. Peter was the most impulsive and head- 
strong of Christ's followers; Christ had upbraided 
him on one occasion with a swift rebuke; on 
another occasion had warned him that, in spite of 
warm-hearted protestations of loyalty, he would 
deny his Master; and yet all through that Master 
had shown him a love and confidence which lifted 
him above the heads of the other disciples. 

And Paul, for his part, was equally impetuous, 
headstrong, and reckless ; but his impetuosity was 
of the intellect, not of the heart. He was the 
impulsive zealot of the Law, with a quick brain 
for argument, a fierce and haughty contempt for 
the loose ideas of ignorant men. 

These two men, the provincial and unlearned 
fisherman and the brilliant and accomplished 
Pharisee, came face to face in some little house 
in Jerusalem, long ago forgotten, and for fifteen 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



367 



days discussed the ebaracler, the wurds. and the character, lie wanted ah men to see the "reat 
works of Jesus of Xazareth. h-ht. And so he ]n-eaclied with tlie fearless en- 

ergy of his soul, and suddenly presented Christ 
to Jerusalem as the Son of God, as the Saviour 
THE FIFTEEN DA\-S THAT PAUL of all mankind. 

SPENT WITH PETER 



"After three years," sa) s Paul, "I «ent up to 
Jerusalem to see Peter, and abode wuh him fif- 
teen da\s. But other of the a[)ostles saw I mme, 
save lames, the Lord's hrother." That is all we 
know of this great inter\ iew. 

But we have another glimpse of Paul's general 
reception at Jerusaleni- 

However kind ma\' have hecn the greeting of 
the warm-hearted, noble-natured Peter, from the 
rest of the Nazarenes at Jerusalem l\iul received 
the coldest welcome. "They were all afraid of 
him, and believed not that he was a disciple." 

"He was met on everv side," savs Dean Farrar, 
"by cold, distrustful looks. At one stroke he had 
lost all his old friends; it seemed to be too likely 
that he would gain no new ones in their place. 
The brethren regarded him wdth terror and mis- 
trust; thev did not believe that he was a disciple 
at all. The facts which accompanied his alleged 
conversion they may, indeed, have heard of ; liut 
they had occurred three years before. 

"The news of his recent preaching and recent 
peril in Damascus was not likelv tn have reached 
them; but, even if it had, it would have seemed 
so strange that thev might be pardoned for loi ik- 
ing with doubt on the persecutor turned brother 
— for e\'en fearin.g that the asserted conversion 
migdit be onlv a ruse to enable Saul to learn their 
secrets, and so entrap them to their final ruin." 

How natural all this seems to us to-da\- ; how 
real and true it makes the history (if Christianity. 

Paul, however hurt he might be biy this cold 
distrust of the brotherhood, was at least exalted 
by what Peter had to tell him. li^verything that 
the simple fisherman narrated as mere story and 
chronicle became charged with spiritual meaning 
to the soul of this greatest of men. He listened 
to Peter's narrative, questioned and cross-exam- 
ined, fastened the whole story into his heart, and 
at the end of those fifteen davs rose up and went 
boldly out to preach Christ crucified to the Jews 
and to the Greeks. 

And now once more we see the same tragedy 
that we witnessed at Damascus. As the Gada- 
renes implored Jesus to depart from their coasts, 
so the timid Nazarenes in Jerusalem be.gged Paul 
to go from them, lest his bold preaching should 
bring ruin on the brotherhood. 

Paul perceived in the mists of the future a 
Church embracing humanity and changing human 



HOW CITRISTIANITY WAS LEFT WITH 
ELEVEN SIMPLE MEN 

He was marked down for death. Such preaching 
was unthinkable in Jerusalem. As he had been 
marked down at Damascus for stirring up strife, 
so he was marked down in Jerusalem; and now, 
as then, he was saved by flight. He had to be 
hurried out of the holv citv. Once more, then, 
we find him, on the threshold of his burning pur- 
pose, driven f(irth into exile, a homeless man, 
wdio frightened his friends and roused his ene- 
mies to fury. 

He went to Tarsus, and the chronicle says sig- 
nificantly: "Then had the churches rest through- 
out all Judcca and Galilee and Samaria." 

Rest ! Yes, they rested, and the nations of the 
earth continued to live as though the Son of God 
had never brought life and immortality to light. 

We are now at an incident in our narrative 
wdiich re\-eals to us the wonderful spread of 
Christianitv throughout the world. 

Have we ever thought how strange a thing it is 
that after the ignominious death of Jesus, who 
was the son of a carpenter in a despised village, 
his religion, which he had left in the hands of 
ele\-en uneducated men, wdio had all forsaken 
him and fled in the hour of his dowaifall, should 
have spread, even in the lifetime of those very 
men, to nations and countries far away from 
lerusalem? 

ddiis is the most wonderful fact of human his- 
torv. We cannot exaggerate its wonder. Noth- 
ing in the least resembling it had ever occurred 
before or has ever occurred since. It stands out 
in the history of humanity as a w^onderful event 
that it is impossible to deny, and equally impossi- 
ble to explain on purely human grounds. 

The Gospel of Christianity, wdiich is nothing 
more or less than the character of Christ, spread 
among the nations before there was printing, be- 
fore there was railway or telegraph, and before 
civilization had reached a gentleness and kindness 
which owing to Christ himself, is now the char- 
acteristic of social life. It was a triumph of 
sweetness, beautv, and humility, at a time when 
blood was on the hands of rulers and princes, and 
when mankind was degraded by sin. 

We can see how this revolution took place by 
following the narrative of Paul's life; but we 



368 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



must leave him for the present at his home in 
Tarsus while we read about a striking incident 
which took place in the life of Peter. 

THE STRANGE VISION THAT CAME 
TO PETER 

One day, in the house of Simon the tanner, at 
Joppa, Peter rose and mounted to the roof, like 
a pious Jew, to say his midday prayer. From the 
flat roof of this Eastern house he saw the blue 
sea creeping over the bleached sands, and felt the 
heat of the noonday sun beating down upon him. 
As he prayed he became hungry, and, probably 
exhausted by his hard life, his scant fare, and the 
pitiless glare beating up from the hot, white roof 
into his eyes, he fell into a swoon. 

In this trance he saw an immense movement in 
the sky, as if it were a gigantic linen sheet being 
lowered by ropes at the four corners, and saw 
within it all manner of birds, and fowls, and rep- 
tiles. "Rise, Peter," said a voice within him ; 
"kill, and eat." Hungered and exhausted as he 
was, the Jew in him cried out: "Not so, Lord!" 
For among these creatures there were those 
which the law of Moses forbade all Jews to eat. 
"Not so, Lord ; for I have never eaten any thing 
that is common or unclean." 

The voice answered: "What God hath cleai-sed, 
that call not thou common." 

The rebuke was thrice uttered, the vision van- 
ished, and Peter woke out of the trance into 
which he had fallen. 

THE RICH CENTURION WHO SENT FOR 
THE HUMBLE FISHERMAN 

Clear .as the brilliant sun to \^hich he woke was 
the meaning of this vision; but as his eyes were 
dazzled by the light, so was his soul too dazed 
to realize in all its wonderful fullness the mean- 
ing of his vision. Pie was pondering it in his 
heart when he heard the voices of three foreign- 
ers in the street below, inquiring for him at the 
door of Simori's house. One of these men was a 
soldier. 

Fie went down and asked what they wanted. 
They told him that Cornelius, the centurion of 
Csesarea, desired that he should come to him on 
a visit. 

At once the full meaning of the vision flashed 
upon his mind. Cornelius was a foreigner, a man 
of power, a good man, respected even by the 
Jews. Peter realized that God had moved the 
heart of this great and influential man toward 
Jesus of Nazareth. He saw how important a thing 
had happened, and on his journey to Cassarea took 



with him si.x of the Nazarenes at Joppa to be wit- 
nesses of what should follow. 

The scene was a striking one. Cornelius, whose 
imagination had been kindled by stories of Jesus, 
was waiting in his grand house, with several 
friends and kinsmen, for the humble apostle. Di- 
rectly he saw him, he went forward and bowed 
his knee to the fisherman. 

PETER CARRIES THE GOSPEL TO 
THE GENTILES 

"Stand up," said Peter; "I myself also am a 
man." That was finely said. They went in to- 
gether and talked; and Peter said: "Ye know how 
that it is an unlawful thing for a man that is a 
Jew to keep companv, or come unto one of an- 
other nation ; but God hath shewed me that I 
should not call any man common or unclean." 
Cornelius related that a vision had bid him send 
for Peter, and he concluded by asking the apostle 
to speak what God commanded him. 

Then Peter uttered remarkable words: "Of a 
truth I perceive that God is no respecter of per- 
sons : but in every nation he that feareth him, 
and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him." 
Flaving spoken these words, he told the story of 
Jesus, bore witness to the resurrection, and 
showed that it was to this Jesus of Nazareth that 
all the prophets had pointed throughout the ages. 

His words had a great effect. The Nazarenes 
\yho were with him felt the power of the Holy 
Spirit afresh, and saw in those about them a like 
transfiguring effect. Peter, witnessing the descent 
of the Holy Spirit upon these foreigners, cried 
out : "Can any man forbid water, that these should 
not be baptized which have received the Holy 
Ghost as well as we?" And he baptized them all 
into the religion of Jesus. 

How was the great event received by the Naza- 
renes in Jerusalem? When Peter returned he 
was met with a complaint. The brethren gath- 
ered there blamed Peter bitterly for having asso- 
ciated with the Gentiles, for eating with them, 
and for admitting them to the brotherhood of 
Christ by baptizing them. 

But Peter related to the Nazarenes the exact 
details of his vision and what happened after- 
ward, and they "held their peace, and glorified 
God, saying. Then hath God also to the Gentiles 
granted repentance unto life." 

To the Jews it was a dreadful thing that Peter 
had done. He had defied the law of Moses. 

Peter had taken a step destined to change the 
history of the world. By crossing the threshold 
of the Roman's house in Cfesarea, he really car- 
ried Christianity from Asia to Europe; by sitting 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



369 



down to meat with this foreigner, he transplanted 
Christianity from Jndaism to the hearts of all 
people. The great miraele hail hegun. 

And yet only grudgingly did the Nazareiies in 
Jerusalem aeeept the new conditions. We must 
look from Peter to Paul, and from Jerusalem to 
Antioch, for the development of this revolution. 

PAUL S.W'ES CIIRL^TLWrrV 

While the humhle community of Nazarenes in 
Jerusalem were still agitated hy the action of 
Peter in admitting to baptism a foreigner com- 
pletely outside the Jewish religion, news of a 
much more disturbing character reached them 
from the city of Antioch. 

Antioch was at that time one of the three capi- 
tals of the world. Its situation was magnificent, 
its buildings were of the greatest splendor, and 
its streets were unequaled for grandeur. The 
population was composed of all nationalities. A 
man who stood in the market-place of Antioch, 
says an ancient writer, could study the various 
customs of the world. 

Among the many races of people inhabiting 
this great city were several of those Nazarenes 
who had been dri\"en forth from Jerusalem by the 
furious persecution of Saul. 

These humble Jews brought with them into 
Antioch the mustard-seed of Christ's kingdom, 
destined, as it grew up. to spread its branches 
over the whole earth. They worshiped Jesus in 
secret, and in their intercourse with neighbors 
gradually spread abroad the narrative of Jesus, 
his teaching, his death, his resurrection. Nothing 
could have been in greater contrast than these 
humble Nazarenes, with their worship of Christ's 
beautiful character, and the average inhabitants 
of Antioch. This superb city, with its marble- 
paved streets, its glorious avenues adorned with 
colonnades and statues and shaded by plane-trees 
and palms, with its perfumed gardens shelving to 
the wide river, its white palaces surrounded by 
beautiful groves of myrtle and laurel, with its 
broad and crowded market-place, freshened by 
soft breezes that came from the neighboring sea, 
was a sink of iniquity. It was one of the wicked- 
est cities on the face of the earth. 

HOW THE MESSAGE OE JESUS WAS 
HEARD IN THE SINFUL CITY 

Happily for the history of the world, the Naza- 
renes at Antioch did not want to keep Christ to 
themselves, and they did not look with disdain 
upon foreigners. So it came about that the leaven 
of Christ worked in that "seething mass of athe- 



ism, idolatry, and polluted life," just as a little 
veast works in a mass of heavy dough, which be- 
comes light by its inlhience and makes bread that 
is best suited for the need of men. 

Among the (ireeks at Antioch this new thought 
began to work with extraor(.linary energy. The 
Jews who worshiped Jesus still regarded him as 
first and foremost a member of their race ; but the 
Greeks, with their quick brains and subtle intel- 
lects, soon perceived that the character of Jesus 
belonged to no race and to no nation, but was 
something which made as direct an appeal to the 
whole of the human race as the air of heaven. 

Reports spread from Antioch of Greeks coming 
into the faith of Jesus by tens, twenties, and hun- 
dreds. Instead of rejoicing at this visible mani- 
festation of God's providence, the community of 
Nazarenes at Jerusalem were flung into a state of 
anxiety and concern. 

There was no apostle at Antioch. l\Ien might 
be there who had seen Jesus, heard him speak, 
and perhaps had even spoken to him themselves ; 
but how dare these unauthorized people, who had 
never been conmiissioned by Jesus to preach the 
Gospel, take upon themselves the terrible respon- 
sibilities of the apostles? ^Vhat mistakes they 
must be committing! What errors must be creep- 
ing in ! Surely a false Christ must be working in 
this pagan city of Antioch, so far removed from 
the holy city of Jerusalem ! 

BARNABAS, THE MAN WHO 
HELPED PAUL 

Accordingly, the apostles decided to send at 
once a trusted member of their little band, to see 
with his own eyes and report with his own lips 
the condition of things at Antioch. For this pur- 
pose Barnabas was chosen, a discreet man of 
noble mind, one of the most trusted of all the 
apostles. Barnabas went to Antioch, saw the 
state of affairs, realized that an immense oppor- 
tunity was presented for spreading a knowledge 
of Christ throughout the world, and set himself 
to guide this mighty work. 

Soon, however, it grew beyond his solitary 
powers, and, considering whom he could invite to 
help him, he remembered his old friend and fel- 
low-pupil, Saul of Tarsus, a man of genius most 
suitable for working among the cultured Greeks. 

But where was this Saul, who had fled from 
Jerusalem years ago, and who had been so dis- 
trusted bv the other apostles? We are not told 
how Paul spent those years. AYe imagine that he 
returned to his home, converted the members of 
his own household, and worked quietly in Tarsus 
and the neighborhood, thinking out the mystery 



370 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



of Christ, and using his persuasion with all who 
would listen to him. 

In any case, it was at Tarsus that Barnabas dis- 
covered Paul, and told him of the great events at 
Antioch. The heart of Paul kindled at the news. 
This was his call. This was the labor to which 
Christ would have him put his hand. Eagerly 
and gladly did he set forth with Barnabas 



THE COMING OF PAUL TO ANTIOCH. 
AND WHAT HAPPENED 

It is almost certain that to the labors of Paul at 
Antioch we owe the name of "Christians." Hith- 
erto the followers of Jesus were called Nazarenes 
or Galileans— both terms of contempt, as Naza- 
reth was a wretched city, and Galilee a provincial 
district of no reputation whatever. These names 
were used by the Jews to show their contempt for 
the ignorant men who worshiped an obscure car- 
penter from that despised part of their little 
world. 

To the Nazarenes themselves the little flock 
was known as "the brotherhood," "the disciples," 
"the believers," "the faithful," "those of the way." 
Probably, as Peter enjoyed a position of unique 
authority, his term was the cue most generally 
used. Peter, curiously enough, never once uses 
the word "Christ," but calls the followers of 
Christ by a beautiful term used by no other apos- 
tle — "the brotherhood." The command of this 
chief among the apostles was : "Love the brother- 
hood." 

What better title could be found than Chris- 
tianf And yet this word, which is now common 
to every nation and language, which is associated 
with the art and literature, the philanthropy and 
conduct, the mercy and the humanity of all West- 
ern civilization, was first bestowed upon the fol- 
lowers of Jesus in derision. Like Nazarene and 
Galilean, the term Christian had its origin in 
mockery and disdain. 

How did it arise? The answer reveals to us 
the character of Paul, and lights up for us the 
darkness which lies upon his work at Antioch. 
Before the coming of Paul, the followers of Jesus 
at Antioch had been derisively treated as an ob- 
scure sect of the Jewish religion, mere followers 
of Jehovah with some new ideas, mostly fantastic, 
about that tribal deity. They were not known at 
Antioch by any name at all, nor did anybody 
trouble about them. 

But with the coming of Paul the great city of 
Antioch woke to the knowledge that this new re- 
ligion was something more than a Jewish sect. 
The wits of the market-place, the fashionable 



loungers in the streets, the noblemen in their 
marble palaces and groves of myrtle, discussed 
the new philosopher with interest and amusement. 
Paul provided something new, a diversion for 
these tired citizens of the Roman Empire; they 
were very grateful to have a fresh topic of con- 
versation. 

If they had only known that when their palaces 
were in dust, and their names wiped off the tab- 
lets of the earth's memory — if they had only 
known that then, for endless centuries, the name 
of the man at whom they laughed would be known 
throughout the world, and his genius acknow- 
ledged by all nations — if they had known this, 
how those laughing and amused citizens of Anti- 
och would have started and wondered ! 

As it was, they sufficiently recognized Paul to 
talk about him. And very soon the wits of Anti- 
och had a nickname for his converts; they called 
them Christians. It probably began by being 
Chrestiani, founded on the Greek word Chrestos, 
which means "excellent," and would easily be 
confounded with Cliristiis, the name by which 
Jesus was preached to the Greeks and Romans. 
The wits of Antioch gathered in their light way 
that Paul was preaching about some one who was 
utter perfection, utter excellence, some new god 
or other, whose name was Chrestos. "Let us call 
these mad people Chrestiani," they said, meaning 
that they were mortals trying to be gods. Later, 
the true name came home to them, and they spoke 
not of Chrestiani, but Christiani, or, as we should 
say in English, Christians. 

HOW CHRISTIANITY SWEPT ACROSS 
THE WORLD FROM ANTIOCH 

Now, from this historic fact we may gather know- 
ledge which is most interesting and most instruc- 
tive. First of all we see that Paul roused Anti- 
och. Remember, it was a mighty city, the third 
capital of the world, and filled with people of all 
nationalities. Paul, by his earnest preaching, 
roused this great city to see that the Nazarenes 
were not a sect of the Jewish Church, but follow- 
ers of a new religion. This is important. It 
shows us the vigor and force of Paul. It gives 
him his rightful place in history, which is imme- 
diately below his Master. Before Paul reached 
Antioch, Christianity was not a world-force; be- 
fore he left, it had started to sweep across the 
known world. 

Paul and Barnabas, two poor Jews, set out one 
day from Antioch for the port of Seleucia, thence 
to take ship and preach Christ among all the na- 
tions of the world. Paul was weak in body, ner- 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



371 



vous in mind, ami a poor speaker; yet he went 
forward to endure sueii sufferings as would liave 
broken down a giant — "the scourgings, the llagel- 
lations, the stonuig. the shipwrecks, the incessant 
toilings on foot along nitolerahle and dangerous 
roads; the dangers from swollen ri\-ers and rush- 
ing watercourses, the dangers from niouulam 
brigands, the dangers from jews, fnuu ( ientiles, 
from false Christians in cit\- and wilderness and 
sea; the frantic crowds that iiearl\- lore him to 
pieces; the weary nights; the chill, naked, thirsty, 
famine-stricken days; the incessant wearing re- 
sponsibility; the chronic disease and weakness- 
all tlie outrages, all the insults, all the agitating 
bursts of indignation against those who put stum- 
bling-blocks in the patlis cif the weak, the se\'cre 
imprisonments, the incessant death, and all ended 
by desertion, failure, loneliness, chains, condem- 
nation, the chilly dungeon, the nameless martyr- 
dom !" 

\\'e stand amazed at w hat this man endured ; 
and the more we consider the work that he per- 
formed, the more do we feel that he is history's 
greatest witness to the truth of Christ. 

Paul had one burning amliition. and one alone 
— to make men Christians. He was not a patriot ; 
no narrowness of geography or history cramped 
his large and ample spirit. He saw all the earth 
as God's, all the nations as children of one uniyer- 
sal Father, and Christ as the light of the world. 
So he did not say that people must become Jews 
in order to become Christians, but that they must 
become Christlike in order to realize God's father- 
hood. He said that the Law of Moses was swept 
away by the sacrifice of Christ, 



PAUL GOES UP TO THE TEMPLE 

After years of missionary labor, unequalcd in the 
history of the world, Paul returned to Jerusalem. 
He brought \yith him money for the poor Jews of 
the Christian faith and tidings that the influence 
of Christ was spreading among the foreign na- 
tions. He was received coldly. While in Jerusa- 
lem, he \yent up to the temple. It was the season 
of Passoeer, and thousands of jews from all parts 
of the world had flocked to the holy city for this 
sacred feast. The city was full of Jews from all 
nations, dark-skinned and pale, wearing every 
kind of dress, speaking every kind of language, 
but united in the common superstition of their 
religion. 

One day a number of Asiatic Jews, thronging 
through the temple, caught sight of a small, thin, 
emaciated old man, bowed by labors and bronzed 
by sun and wind, standing there with four others, 



'oking :diont him with .an eye that had the 

nid penelr.ilidii of ,an eagle's. These pil- 

nitcd hnii out, whispered among 

Willi cries of ragfe and gestures 



and 
Hash 

grims sloppe 
themseK'es. ; 

of hale, sprang uixin this m.in with the cry of 

'1 hey had recognized 



o 



f Is 



srael, help!" 



Alen 
Paul. 

In a moment the temple was in a tumult. The 
worshipers and ])ilgriins came running from every 
court and (piarter of the building. One name was 
on every lip — the name of Paul; Paul the false 
Jew ; Paul wdio had made light of the Jews among 
foreign nations, wdio had been flogged again and 
again, but still degraded the Israelitish religion, 
and set the Gentile equal with the people of Je- 
ho\'ah. Fierce cries were hearri on every side, 
faces distorted with passion flashed through the 
temjilc. the payement echoed with the patter of 
feet, the air was filled with the rustle of garments, 
and round about Paul himself there were shrieks, 
yells, and curses, the spirit of murder. 

Before they could destroy him. Lysias. the Ro- 
man connnandant. arriyed upon the scene with 
centurions and soldiers. Paul was rescued, put 
into chains, and led awa\-. The crowd followed, 
shrieking for his death. Lie was saved from 
being torn to pieces chiefly by the fact that Lysias 
kept close by him ; and, as the rescue-party was 
about to disappear into the barracks. Paul spoke 
to Lysias in Greek. "I am a man which am a 
Jew of Tarsus, a city in Cilicia. a citizen of no 
mean city." said he. "and. I beseech thee, suffer 
me to speak unto the people." 



PAUL'S DEFENCE OF HIS LIFE BEFORE 
A RAGING MOB 

It was an undaunted request to come from one 
wdiose life had just been rescued from that raging 
mob. and \yho was at that moment suft'ering from 
their rough treatment. Snatclied from his perse- 
cutors after imminent risk, barely delivered from 
that most terrifying of all forms of danger, the 
murderous fury of masses of his fellow-men, he 
asks leaye not only to face, but to address the 
densely thronging thousands, who were only kept 
from him by a little belt of Roman swords. 

The splendid speech of Paul, narrating the 
story of his conversion in a few graphic phrases, 
was listened to with wonder and increasing ad- 
miration, when he spoke of the message he had 
received: "Depart, for I will send thee far hence 
unlo Ihc Gciililcs." 

At that point, stung by the hated word "Gen- 
tiles" to remember all the bigotry and intolerance 
of their natures which Paul's eloquence had lulled 



372 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



to rest, the mob swayed toward him with a savage 
scream of rage, crying out: "Away with such a 
fellow from the earth; for it is not fit that he 
should live." 

Paul was tried by the Roman judge Felix. It 
was quite clear that he had done nothing to de- 
serve death, nothing even to deserve arrest ; at 
the same time Felix did not care to offend the 
chief priests of the Jews, who were clamoring to 
have Paul delivered into their hands, by his being 
set free. He let time pass, and amused himself 
by having this much-talked-about Jew brought in 
private before himself and his wife. 



THE TRIAL OF PAUL BEFORE FELIX 

Felix was old, cruel, and wicked ; his wife, Dru- 
silla, was a young and beautiful Jewess. When 
Paul was invited to talk before them, he spoke of 
Christ and the life of purity and love. He made 
them both feel conscious of their evil and idle 
lives by speaking of the perfect life of Jesus. 

Paul was kept in prison till Festus came to 
Judasa to occupy the position of Felix. Paul now 
appealed, as a citizen of Rome, to Cssar, which 
meant that he would be tried in Italy. Before he 
was sent away, however, the last of the Herods, 
Agrippa II., came to Casarea on a state visit to 
Festus. One day Festus spoke of the man Paul, 
the Jew-Christian who had appealed to Caesar, 
and Agrippa said that he would like to see this 
interesting person. Festus, then, to amuse his 
kingly guest, had Paul brought before him. It 
was not a legal trial ; it was not a private inter- 
view. No ; it was a show, an entertainment, a 
function. The chief officers of the army and the 
more important people of the neighborhood were 
invited to meet King Agrippa and his sister Ber- 
nice. 

When they were seated, and all the polite cere- 
monies and tedious formalities had been com- 
pleted, Paul— the insignificant little old mission- 
ary — was brought, in his bonds, before this gor- 
geous company. Did any of the proud and wealthy 
men and women imagine that their names would 
live in history only because of the prisoner stand- 
ing before them that day in a position so humble 
and foolish? 

PAUL APPEARS BEFORE KING AGRIPPA 
AND HIS COURT 

Festus laid the story of Paul's arrest before the 
King; and the King, turning to the prisoner, said: 
"Thou art permitted to speak for thyself." 

Then Paul stretched forth his hand, and an- 



swered for himself: "I think myself happy. King 
Agrippa, because I shall answer for myself this 
day before thee, touching all the things whereof 
I am accused of the Jews ; especially because I 
know thee to be expert in all customs and ques- 
tions which are among the Jews." Agrippa, un- 
like many of the kings and procurators set over 
the turbulent Israelites by the Roman Cassar, 
really knew the people, their scriptures, their hab- 
its, and their ideals. Therefore, with great confi- 
dence Paul unfolded the story of his early life to 
King Agrippa — his enthusiasm for the Pharisees, 
his devotion to the God of Israel, his hatred of 
the Nazarenes. 

From this he passed to the vision on the road 
to Damascus, the arresting words, "Saul, Saul, 
why persecutest thou me?" and the command of 
Christ that he should be a witness to the Gentiles. 
"Whereupon, O King Agrippa," he continued, "I 
was not disobedient unto the heavenly vision. . . . 
Having, therefore, obtained help of God, I con- 
tinue unto this day witnessing both to small and 
great, saying none other things than those which 
the prophets and Moses did say should come: that 
Christ should suffer, and that he should be the 
first that should rise from the dead, and should 
show light unto the people and to the Gentiles." 

After an interruption from the Roman gov- 
ernor, Paul turned to King Agrippa and cried: 
"Believest thou the prophets? I know that thou 
believest!" And Agrippa answered: "Almost 
thou persuadest me to be a Christian!" 

At this jest, of course, the gathering must have 
smiled and tittered, and rustled their fine clothes. 
King Agrippa a Christian ! How amusing ! How 
droll ! But Paul broke through the titters with 
these fine and measured words: "I would to God 
that not only thou, but also all that hear me this 
day, were both almost and altogether such as I 
am" — he lifted his hands with the chains and 
added — "except these bonds." The King rose. 
The company began to chatter and make their 
farewells. Paul went back to his prison. As 
Agrippa walked beside Festus he said: "This man 
might have been set at liberty if he had not ap- 
pealed unto Ca;sar." Destiny decided that Paul's 
great wish should be fulfilled: that he should 
preach Christ, and him crucified, in the very heart 
and center of the Empire, in the mighty capital 
of the whole world, at Rome. But it was to be as 
a prisoner. 

Does it not convince us of this man's extraor- 
dinary genius that, while most of the influential 
Christians were congregating in Jerusalem, and 
regarding that sacred city as the axle of the new 
religion, Paul should have looked far away to the 
capital of the Roman Empire and perceived that 



Rir.i 



S'l'ORlKS FOR OI.DI'.R CHILDREN 



373 



there was the center from wliieh the lii;ht of the 
world should radiate to all points' 

TTIE PERIL OF PAUL AT SEA 

^^'E must not fort;"et that St. Paul was a man of 
action as well as a man ol leaianm;". lie is, in- 
deed, the i;reatest of missionaries, and sulTered 
all the privations and penalties of those hrave 
men who set out to leach the world new truth, 
and who count hodiU- fatigue and mental suffer- 
ing' as nothint;' compared with the L;lor\' of servint;" 
God. 

"Tlirice was I heateii witli rods," he narrates, 
"once was I stoned, thrice 1 suffered shipwreck, 
a night and a da\" 1 have heeii in the deep: in 
journevings often, in perils of waters, in perils 
of rohhcrs. in perils ]\v mine own countr\inen, in 
perils hv the heathen, in perils in the cit\', in per- 
ils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea. in perils 
among false hrethren ; in weariness and pain ful- 
ness, in watclhngs often, in hunger and thirst, in 
fastings often, in cold and nakedness." 

AA'e accept the reli,t;ion of Jesus to-day as a part 
of life. It seems to us as natural as trees antl 
houses. A\"e cannot think of a ci\-ilized town with- 
out a church. We canni.it imagine a Sunday with- 
out the ringin,g of church hells and the singing of 
hvmns. But once upon a time there was no re- 
ligion of Jesus. (.)ncc upon a time the idea that 
love is far more powerful than strength, and for- 
giveness more beautiful than revenge, would have 
been laughed to scorn h\' all mankind. (.)nce upon 
a time the revelation that (!iod is our leather in 
heaven, aii'l that all men are brothers, would h:\\e 
been deemed incredilde. And to teach men these 
new truths required courage of the highest kind. 
because these exquisite and suhlime ideas attacked 
and destroyed by their very bcaut_\- the proud and 
mighty priesthoods of false religions. Christian- 
ity was a revolution. It altered the whole idea of 
life wdiich had prc\-ailed in the world for centu- 
ries. Therefore it needed revolutionaries of the 
bravest nature to preach it. 

St. Paul is the great revolutionist of history. 
It was St. Paul who flung the thoughts of the 
whole civilized world into a new. channel, and 
who gave to foreign nations, in cities the most 
splendid and cultured, that Saviour whom the 
hated Jews rejected. Let us think what work it 
was to bring Greeks and Romans to the adoration 
of a crucified Jew, to convince them that Jesus 
of Nazareth, crucified in shame and defeat be- 
tween two thieves, was Jesus the Son of God. our 
Saviour and Redeemer. This was the work of 
the Apostle Paul, and it is matchless in the whole 
history of human achievement. 



PAUL GOIlS to THE C;\PITAL OF THE 
WORLD IN tdlAINS 

Amoni: all the incidents in ,St. Paul's tempestuous 
lile. lew ha\'e so great a f.aseination for us as 
that juuriie)- to Lome, the <-apital of the great 
Rinnan l'jn|iire. the metropolis of the world, on 
which he endured all the horrors of a typhoon, 
and sullered the terrors and excitements of ship- 
wreck. Now;ida_\s our missionaries make many 
perilous jouniews in order to p'reach the religion 
of Jesus to heathen nations, Imt St. I\aurs great 
journc)' stands out in history for all time, unique 
for what it accomiilished, and unequaled in its 
narr;iti\'e for picturesque simplicitv and compel- 
ling truth. 

St. Paul, who was a prisoner, and wdio had ap- 
pealed to C;esar. was, with other prisoners, 
shi|)ped on board a small trading vessel at Adra- 
myttium in the month of August, and under the 
care of one Julius, a centurion of an Au.gustan 
cohort, set out for Rome. His .great ambition to 
reach the metropolis of the world was at last to 
l)e fulfilled; but he was destined to journey there 
under the guardianship of Roman soldiers, a pris- 
oner in chains. 

ddie season of the vear was .getting late for 
sailing, liut the long journey be.gan prosperously 
enough, although St. Paul, wdio had been a pris- 
oner for two years, appears to have suffered. For 
wdieii the vessel reached the port of Sidon, Julius 
.gave the ajiostle permission to ,go on shore in 
order to "refresh himself" among his friends. 
We can imagine how a poor prisoner, especially 
a man of St. Paul's tier\' and e.xalted nature, 
wiiuld have felt the rigors of a sea vo}'age in a 
miseralile trading vessel at the very worst season 
of the >'ear. 

CH.MXED TO ROMAN SOLDIERS IN A 
STORM-TOSSED SHIP 

Aftkr leaving Sidon, the heavens frowned upon 
the little ship, and for two months the wretched 
prisoners, each man chained to a Roman soldier, 
endured the terrors of tempest. A contrary wind 
obliged the sailors to forsake their course, and it 
was after some time and no little difficulty that 
thev dropped anchor in a river near by the town 
of l\lvra. Here the prisoners were transhipped, 
ami passed into a large vessel from Alexandria 
laden with corn. A contrary wind still blew hard, 
but the Alexandrian vessel crept along the shore, 
and came at last to a place known as Fair Havens. 
It was now getting toward the end of Septem- 
ber, wdien the Jews regarded the sea as closed to 
navigation, and some time was spent in consider- 



374 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



ing what should be done. Would it be well to 
winter in Fair Havens, or to try and round Cape 
Matala to Port Phoenix, which was a much better 
port, and a far pleasanter town for winter quar- 
ters? 

Paul the Apostle ventured to join in the dis- 
cussion. 

"Sirs," said he, "I perceive that this voyage 
will be with hurt and much damage, not only of 
the lading and ship, but also of our lives." 

They knew he was a great traveler and well 
acquainted with that sea, but, nevertheless, his 
advice to winter in Fair Flavens was disregarded, 
and the vessel put out to sea once more. 

At first everything prospered, and, towing the 
ship's boat behind them, they made a pleasant run 
through the waters. But suddenly the typhoon, 
a terrific hurricane which is the terror of all sail- 
ors, swept down upon them. 

What could these poor sailors do in a vessel 
which had but one mainmast and one mainsail? 
They were powerless even to furl the sail, and 
could do nothing but let the ship rush on and 
drive before the tempest. 

Directly it was in the least possible, an attempt 
was made to get the ship's boat on board, in case 
it should be necessary to escape from the ship. 
St. Luke, who wrote the account of the voyage 
for us and was on the ship, helped to pull the 
boat on board, a most difificult task, and we can 
imagine how that boat must have looked as it 
came in from the swirling waters at the stern of 
the ship, its timbers sore beaten and half buried 
under the sea. 

Then the sailors undergirded the vessel by pass- 
ing thick ropes under the prow and fastening 
them tightly together around the middle. But 
there was no port to which they could run, and 
nothing remained for these storm-harried mari- 
ners except the heart-breaking task of what is 
called lying-to. So, with the longboat on board, 
the vessel tied up with cords, the sails were so set 
that the wind steadied the ship and held it in one 
place, rolling, pitching, tossing, and straining all 
its timbers, helpless in the midst of the tempest. 



THE VISION IN THE NIGHT THAT 
GAVE HOPE 

But Paul was calm in the midst of the storm, 
and faithful in the face of danger. He stood up 
and said to the wretched crews: "Sirs, ye should 
have hearkened unto me, and not have loosed 
from Crete, and to have gained this harm and 
loss. And now I exhort you to be of good cheer: 
for there shall be no loss of any man's life among 



you, but of the ship. F'or there stood by me this 
night the angel of God, whose I am, and whom I 
serve, saying, Fear not, Paul ; thou must be 
brought before Cffisar ; and, lo, God hath given 
thee all them that sail with thee. Wherefore, 
sirs, be of good cheer: for I believe God, that it 
shall be even as it was told me." The sailors took 
heart from these words, and some time later, 
hearing the roar of breakers, they sounded, and 
found themselves in twenty fathoms of water. 
Again they sounded; only fifteen fathoms! Yes, 
land was near, but their danger was enormous. 
The roaring wind blew hard; it might hurl them 
on to a reef. Anchors were cast out, and stuck 
fast in the clay. Still the danger was terrible. 
The roar of the breakers grew louder and louder. 
What would be the vessel's fate ? 

The sailors made an attempt to escape by the 
boat, but Paul prevented it ; and, begging all those 
on board to eat and strengthen themselves, him- 
self took bread, gave thanks to God, and ate. 
Thus hope returned to the panic-stricken crew, 
and with their new strength they flung out the 
wheat into the sea, and so lightened the ship. 
When morning dawned the)' saw the land, an 
island washed by furious waters. They knew not 
what land it was that they were making toward. 



HOW PAUL LANDED ON THE ISLAND 
OF MELITA 

The vessel drove ashore till the prow stuck fast 
in the land, while the stern was battered to pieces 
by the waves. For a moment the soldiers wanted 
to kill the prisoners, fearing an escape; but Julius 
prevented this atrocious crime, and every man 
landed in safety, including the great missionary 
who was going up to Rome to preach Jesus. 

The shipwrecked men found that they had 
landed on the island of Melita, which is now 
called Malta and belongs to England. There they 
were treated well by the inhabitants. One little 
incident is recorded which makes us feel how ab- 
solutely true is the whole narrative. In making a 
fire of sticks, a viper, warmed by the flames, 
crawled out and fastened on Paul's hand. "And 
when the barbarians saw the venomous beast hang 
on his hand, they said among themselves. No 
doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though he 
hath escaped the sea, yet vengeance suffereth not 
to live. And he shook off the beast into the fire, 
and felt no harm. Howbeit they looked when he 
should ha\'e swollen, or fallen down dead sud- 
denly: liut after they had looked a great while, 
and saw no harm come to him, they changed their 
minds, and said that he was a god." 



BIBLE STORIES EOR OLDER CHILDREN 



375 



THE LAST DAYS OF PAUL 

St. Paul, a fettered prisoner, arrived in Rome, 
and the angels who keep tlie chronicles of the 
human race turned o\er another page anil Ijegan 
a new chapter. Jesus had lived his sublime and 
humble life in a little district of a despised coun- 
try. He never saw the splendors of barbaric civ- 
ilization, the loveliness of Antioch, and the glorv 
of Rome. Jerusalem, with its narrow streets, rep- 
resented for him a great metropolis, a city of the 
world. He lived ancl died in a province of the 
Roman Empire, foreign ami provincial. 

But the inspiration of his divine life fell upon 
Saul of Tarsus, and the feet of this great man 
were swift to carry far afield from Jerusalem 
and Galilee the glad tidings of great jov. Jesus 
is the light of the world ; Paul was the man who 
carried that light into Europe. 

It is one of the most striking facts of history 
that the immense work of St. Paul in Rome was 
accomplished in a hired lodging and as a fettered 
prisoner. There was nothing to startle men in 
this event that shook the pillars of the world. 

We might imagine that St. Paul arrived in 
Rome with a shouting host around him, that he 
marched in victory through the seething streets, 
that he stood face to face with Nero, and, de- 
nouncing that monster of iniquity, held up before 
the Roman eagle the cross of Jesus. We might 
imagine that he delivered magnificent orations, 
and called the people to revolution. 

But not in this manner was the work of Chris- 
tianizing Europe accomplished. Think how it be- 
gan ! It began by St. Paul talking quietly in his 
chamber to the soldier who guarded him, and to 
whom he was chained. For hour after hour, to 
every fresh soldier who came to share his fetters, 
Paul told the story of Christ's life, his own con- 
version, and with that foreign soldier discussed 
the ideas of Jesus — the ideas of kindness and 
love, of goodness and self-sacrifice, of a Father 
in heaven who cares for us and who desires us to 
be happy. Every word that he said 'was a seed 
destined to spread among a whole legion of the 
Roman army, in due time to bring forth a har- 
vest in the farthest corners of the world. 

THE PRISONER WHOSE TALK 
CHANGED ALL THE WORLD 

Thls great missionary did his work at Rome by 
means of simple conversation. He talked to peo- 
ple and touched them with the spell of Jesus. He 
discussed the revelation of Jesus with the visitors 
who came to see him, and nnt only sapped the 
foundations of the mightiest empire in existence, 



but changed the world's history. The new page 
in human history was begun by a chained prisoner 
talking to his friends in a Roman lodging. In- 
stead of sernKins, we have conversations. Instead 
iif creeds and a diflicult theology, we have the 
simple influence of the character of Jesus. 

But there was one great moment in St. Paul's 
life at this time. He was brought to trial, and, as 
some think, stood face to face with Nero himself. 
If this is indeed true, never was there a more 
dramatic meeting of two human forces. 

Paul, old and bowed, would stand before Nero, 
young and insolent ; the old Paul standing for a 
new earth, while the voung X'ero represented the 
death of the ol<l world. Paul had li\'ed only for 
others. He was pure, he was tender, he was con- 
siderate ; he loved righteousness ; he was full of a 
manful contempt for allmeanness, vileness.and sin. 

Nero, on the other hand, was a vile and cruel 
monster, seeking and longing for fresh evil, de- 
stro\Ing the li\'es of children, torturing men and 
women for his amusement. He was a tyrant, a 
murderer. It is impossible for men to read the 
history of Nero without being convinced that he 
was inhuman. Therefore, if indeed it was be- 
fore Nero that Paul stood, we haxe truly one of 
the most dramatic meetings in the world's history. 
We have man's desire for God face to face with 
man's desire for evil. We have religion face to 
face with atheism. We have the old world 
clothed in splendor and looking out of eyes of 
lust at the new world, with that new world fet- 
tered and bowed, but rejoicing in the eternal as- 
surance of God's will, the sun of immortality 
shining on its brow. 

From that trial, in which Paul stood alone, de- 
serted by all his friends, he emerged with a ver- 
dict of "not proven." He escaped death, to re- 
main a prisoner. 

The great fire which had destroyed so much of 
the glory of Rome, the fire which many ascribed 
to Nero himself, was laid by Nero's spies at the 
door of the despised Christians, the strange peo- 
ple who, they said, worshiped a crucified god in 
underground places and burying-grounds. 

The Christians were a hated sect, everywhere 
spoken against and distrusted. It seemed, even 
to virtuous Romans, that a new religion which 
exalted love and commanded compassion would 
surely ruin their glorious empire, resting as it did 
on the force of arms. 

THE SCENE AT THE GATE OF ROME 
AS PAUL PASSED FROM EARTPI 

The Christians were, therefore, not merely hated 
by the evil and the wicked, but condemned by the 



376 



BIBLE STORIES FOR OLDER CHILDREN 



thoughtful and the virtuous. It only needed the 
burning of Rome to light the fires of persecution 
for this hated sect. 

Paul might escape for a little while, but his 
doom was certain. How it came, we do not know 
exactly. In the immense confusion of the fall of 
the Roman Empire, the death of St. Paul is lost 
as a little thing of no moment. It was only per- 
ceived long afterward, in the resurrection of the 
world and in the birth of a new religion, that the 
poor, solitary, deserted, and fettered prisoner in 
his lodging at Rome had filled a greater place in 
the history of the world than the Emperor on his 
throne. "God buries the workmen, but carries on 
their work." 

Dean Farrar has imagined for us in his "Life 
of St. Paul" the closing scene: "If any timid, dis- 
heartened, secret Christian stood listening in the 
crowded court — if through the ruined areas 
which marked the sites of what had once been 
shops and palaces before the conflagration had 
swept like a raging storm through the narrow, 
ill-built streets — if from the poorest purlieus of 
the Trastevere, or the gloomy haunts of the Cata- 
combs, any converted slave or struggling Asiatic 
who believed in Jesus had ventured among the 
throng, no one has left a record, no one even told 
the story to his fellows so clearly as to leave be- 
hind him a floating tradition. We know nothing 
more. The last word has been spoken. The cur- 
tain has fallen on one of the noblest of lives. 

"They who will may follow him in imagination 
to the possible scene of his martyrdom, but every 
detail must be borrowed from the imagination 
alone. It may be that the legendary is also the 
real scene of his death. If so, accompanied by 
the centurion and the soldiers who were to see 
him executed, he left Rome by the gate now 
called by his name. . . For nearly three miles 



the sad procession walked, and doubtless the dregs 
of the populace, who always delight in a scene of 
horror, gathered round them. 

"About three miles from Rome, not far from 
the Ostian road, is a green and level spot, with 
low hills around it, known anciently as Aquse Sal- 
vise, and now as Tre Fontane. There the word 
of command to halt was given ; the prisoner knelt 
down, the sword flashed, and the life of the great- 
est of the apostles was shorn away." 

Here ends for us the life of a solitary man who 
occupies a place in history second only to the 
matchless glory of his Master. He was hated by 
the Jews; among the Christians of his own race 
he was distrusted; he was loved by but one man, 
the gracious and youthful Timothy ; and he was 
weak and afflicted. 

Nevertheless it was Paul, who died an unknown 
death of martyrdom, whose life-story is the story 
of Christianity passing out from the East to con- 
quer the whole world. Those missionaries who 
now carry Christianity to the East are carried, as 
it were, on the Pauline wave which rose in the 
East and broke across Europe, shining with the 
light of the world. 

We who have now followed the story of St. 
Paul from the beginning have followed the narra- 
tive of the greatest miracle in history. For the 
miracle of all miracles is the triumph of Chris- 
tianity after Jesus himself had suffered ignomini- 
ous death. No man can explain how Christianity 
conquered the world, except by acknowledging 
that Paul was changed by a miracle, and was sup- 
ported by God through his life of preaching to 
the Gentiles. We look back in history, and we see 
no man who has done a greater work than this 
servant of Jesus, who interpreted his Master to 
all peoples and taught mankind that nothing shall 
separate us from the love of God. 




Ct] 



LITTLE TALKS ON AL^NNERS 
AND MORALS 



CV3 



WASHIXGTOX'S "RULl-S 01- I'.l-LHAX'IDR"* 

Every action in company ougiit tn lie with some 
sign of respect to those present. 

2. In the presence of others, sing not to vonr- 
self with a hunninng noise, nor drum witli ^'our 
fingers or feet. 

3. Speak nut when others speak, sit not when 
others stand, and walk not when others strip. 

4. Turn not your liack to others, especiallv in 
speaking; jog not the tahle or desk on whicli 
another reads or write-; : lean nrit on an\' one. 

5. Be no flatterer, neither plav with any one 
that delights not to he pla}-efl with. 

5. Read no letters, luioks. or papers in company ; 
but when there is a necessity for doing it. von 
must ask leave. Come not near the hrirjks or 
writings of anv one so as to read them, un;isked; 
also, look not nigh when another is writing a 
letter, 

7. Let your countenance be pleasant, but in 
serious matters somewhat grave. 

8. Show not yourself glad at the misfortune of 
another, though he were }-our enemy. 

9. The}' that are in di,gnit}" r>r office have in all 
places precedency : but while the)- are young, they 
ought to respect those that are their equals in 
birth or other qualities, though they have no pub- 
lic charge. 

10. It is good manners to prefer them to whom 
we speak before ourselves, especially if they be 
above us, with whom, in no sort, we ought to 
begin. 

11. Let your discourse with men of business be 
short and comprehensi\'e. 

12. In visiting the sick, do not presently play 
the physician, if you be not knowing therem. 

13. In writing or speaking, give to every per- 
son his due title, according to his degree and the 
custom of the place. 

14. Strive not with your superiors in argument, 
but always submit your judgment to others with 
modesty. 

l^. Undertake not to teach your equal in the 



-'If professes; it savors of 



arro- 



•Collected and copied by him in his youth. 



.art hims 
.gancy. 

16. When a man docs all he can, though it suc- 
ceeds not well, lilame not liun tli.at did it. 

17. Ueing to ad\-ise or reprehend any one, con- 
sider whether it ough.t to be in public or in pri- 
\'ate, presently or at some other time, also in 
wdiat terms to do it; and in rcprovmg show no 
signs of choler, but do it with sweetness and 
mildness. 

iS. Mock not, nor jest at anything of impor- 
tance; break no jests that are sharp or biting, 
and if you deli\-er an_\-tliing witty or pleasant, ab- 
stain from laughing thereat ^'ourself. 

19. A\herein you repro\'e another be unblani- 
;dile yourself, for example is more prevalent than 
precept. 

20. L'se no reproachful Language against any 
one. neither curses nor revilings. 

21. Be not hasty to behe\-e Hying reports, to 
the disparagement of any one. 

22. In your apparel he modest, and endeavor to 
acciMiimoiLale nature rather th.an procure admira- 
tion; kce[j to the fashion of )our equals, 'uch as 
are civil and orderly with respect to time and 
[dace. 

23. Pla\- not the peacock, bioking everywhere 
about you to see if you be well decked, if your 
shoes fit well, if your stockings sit neatly, and 
clothes handsomely. 

24. Associate \-ourself with men of good qual- 
it\- if \-ou esteem }-iiur own reputation, for it is 
better to be alone than in bad company. 

25. Let your conversation be without malice or 
envy, for it is a sign of a tractalde and coinraend- 
alile nature, and m all causes of passion admit 
reason to govern. 

26. Be not immodest in urging your friend to 
discover a secret. 

27. L'tter not base and frivolous things among 
grown and learned men; nor very difficult ques- 
tions or subjects among the ignorant, nor things 
hard to be lielieved. 

28. Speak not of .loleful things in time of 
mirth, nor at the table; speak not of melancholy 



377 



378 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



things, as death and wounds, and if others men- 
tion them, change, if you can, the discourse. Tell 
not your dreams but to your intimate friends. 

29. Break not a jest where none take pleasure 
in mirth. Laugh not aloud, nor at all without 
occasion. Deride no man's misfortune, though 
there seem to be some cause. 

30. Speak not injurious words, neither in jest 
nor earnest. Scoff at none, although they give 
occasion. 

31. Be not forward, but friendly, and cour- 
teous, the first to salute, hear, and answer, and 
be not pensive when it is a time to converse. 

32. Detract not from others, but neither be ex- 
cessive in commending. 

33. Go not thither where you know not whether 
you shall be welcome or not. Give not advice 
without being asked, and when desired, do it 
briefly. 

34. If two contend together, take not the part 
of either unconstrained, and be not obstinate in 
your opinion : in things indifferent be of the ma- 
jor side. 

35. Reprehend not the imperfections of others, 
for that belongs to parents, masters, and su- 
periors. 

36. Gaze not on the marks or blemishes of 
others, and ask not how they came. What 3'ou 
may speak in secret to your friend, deliver not 
before others. 

2,J. Speak not in an unknown tongue in com- 
pany, but in your own language ; and that as those 
of quality do and not as the vulgar. Sublime 
matters treat seriously. 

38. Think before you speak: pronounce not. im- 
perfectly, nor bring out your words too hastily, 
but orderly and distinctly. 

39. When another speaks, be attentive yourself, 
and disturb not the audience. If any hesitate in 
his words, help him not, nor prompt him without 
being desired; interrupt him not, nor answer him 
till his speech be ended. 

40. Treat with men at fit times about business, 
and whisper not in the company of others. 

41. Make no comparisons, and if any of the 
company be commended for any brave act of 
virtue, commend not another for the same. 

42. Be not apt to relate news, if you know not 
the truth thereof. In discoursing of things you 
have heard, name not your author always. A 
secret discover not. 

43. Be not curious to know the affairs of 
others, neither approach to those that speak in 
private. 

44. Undertake not what you cannot perform ; 
but be careful to keep your promise, 



45. When you deliver a matter, do it without 
passion and indiscretion, however mean the per- 
son may be you do it to. 

46. When your superiors talk to anybody, hear 
them, neither speak nor laugh. 

47. In disputes, be not so desirous to overcome 
as not to give liberty to each one to deliver his 
opinion, and submit to the judgment of the major 
part, especially if they are to judge of the dis- 
pute. 

48. Be not tedious in discourse, make not many 
digressions, nor repeat often the same matter of 
discourse. 

49. Speak no evil of the absent, for it is un- 
just. 

50. Be not angry at table whatever happens; 
and if you have reason to be so, show it not; put 
on a cheerful countenance, especially if there be 
strangers, for good humor makes one dish a 
feast. 

51. Set not yourself at the upper end of the 
table, but if it be your due, or the master of the 
house will have it so, contend not, lest you should 
trouble the company. 

52. When 5'ou speak of God or his attributes, 
let it be seriously, in reverence and honor; and 
obey your natural parents. 

53. Let your recreations be manful, not sinful. 

54. Labor to keep alive in your breast that 
little spark of celestial fire called conscience. 

WHO WAS THE GENTLEMAN? 

"Please, sir, don't push so !" It was when I was 
trying to get through the dense crowd that nearly 
filled the entrance, and blocked up the doorway, 
after one of our popular lectures, that this ex- 
clamation met my attention. It came from a 
little girl of not more than ten years, who, 
hemmed in by the wall on one side, and the crowd 
on the other, was vainly struggling to free her- 
self. 

The person addressed paid no attention to the 
appeal of the little one, but pushed on toward the 
door. 

"Look here, sir," said a man whose coarse 
clothing, sturdy frame, and toil-hardened hands 
contrasted strongly with the delicately gloved 
fingers, curling locks, and expensive broadcloth 
of the other. "Look here, sir, you're jamming 
that little girl's bonnet all to smash with those 
elbows of yours." 

"Can't help that," gruffly replied the person ad- 
dressed ; I look to Number One." 

"You take care of Number One, do you? 
Well, that's all fair: so do I," repHed the honest 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 

WUA'I 



countryman; and with these words, he took tho 
little girl in his arms, and placing his broati 
shoulders against the shght form of ■■Number 
One," he pusiied him through the crowd, down 
the steps, landing him, with somewhat more haste 
than dignity, in the street below. 

The young gentleman picked himself up, but 
rather scared by the stout fist of the stranger, 
and rather abashed by the laughter of the crowd! 
concluded it was about time for him to go home.' 
In some kinds of society the dudish person 
would be courted and admired, and the country- 
man despised. But who was the gentleman ? 

On a raw and blustering day in winter, a young 
girl, with a basket on her arm, entered one of 
our stores. After making a few purchases she 
turned to leave. Two men stood in the doorway, 
whose appearance indicated that they thought 
themselves something, but whose soft sleek coats 
and delicate hands were no sign of the quality of 
their manners. 

As they made not the slightest movement as 
she approached, the young girl hesitated a mo- 
ment, but seeing no other wav, she politely re- 
quested them to stand aside, they lazily moved 
a few inches, allowing her barely room'to pass, 
giving her, as she did so, a broad stare, that 
brought the color to her cheek, and the fire to 
her eye. In stepping upon the icy pavement her 
foot slipped, and as she was trying to save her- 
self her basket fell, and the wind scattered its 
contents in every direction. 

At this the two men burst into a loud laugh, 
and seemed to consider it as vastly amusing. 

"Let me assist you," exclaimed a pleasant 
voice; and a lad about sixteen, whose hands 
showed that they were accustomed to labor, and 
whose coarse and patched coat indicated that he 
was the child of poverty, sprang forward, and 
gathering up the articles, presented the basket to 
the girl with a bow and a smile that would have 
graced a drawing-room 
man? 



379 



Who was the gentle- 



img 
and a 

style, 



ng, 



Boys, you are all ambitious to become gentle- 
men, and it is right that you should be so; but 
remember that neither your own nor your parents' 
position in life, your tailor, your boot-black, nor 
your barber can make you one. 

The true gentleman is the same everywhere; 
not only at the social party or ball, but in the 
noisy mill, the busy shop, the assembly at home, 
or m the street. He never oppresses the weak 
or ridicules the unfortunate; is respectful and 
attentive to his superiors; pleasant and polite to 
his equals; careful and tender of the feelings of 
those whom he may consider beneath him. 



LS A GIuVTLEMAN 

What is a ( ienllciiian ?— is it a th 

Decked with a scarfpin, a chain 

l>ressed in a suit of immaculate 

Sporting an eyeglass, a lisp, and a smile; 

lalking of races, of concerts, and balls 
Evening assemblies, and afternoon calls 
Sunning himself at ■'At-homes" and bazars 
Whistling mazurkas, and smoking cigars? 

What is a Gentleman ?— say, is it one 
Boasting of conquests and deeds he has done? 
One, who unblushingly glories to speak 
Things which should call up a flush to his cheek? 
One, who while railing at actions unjust, 
Robs some young heart of its pureness and trust, 
Scorns to steal money, or jewels, or wealth. 
Thinks it no wrong to take honor by stealth? 

What is a Gentleman? — is it not one 
Knowing instinctively what he should shun. 
Speaking no word which could injure or pain. 
Spreading no scandal, and deep'ning no stain? 
One, who knows how to put each at his ease. 
Striving, successfully, always to please; 
One, who can tell by a glance at your cheek. 
When to be silent, and when he should speak? 

What is a Gentleman? — is it not one 
Honestly eating the bread he has won, 
Walking in uprightness, fearing his God, 
Leaving no stain on the path he has trod? 
Caring not whether his coat may be old, 
Prizing sincerity far above gold. 
Recking not whether his hand may be hard — 
Stretching it boldly, to grasp its reward? 

What is a Gentleman? — say, is it birth 

Makes a man noble, or adds to his worth? 

Is there a family tree to be had 

Shady enough to conceal what is bad? 

Seek out the man who has God for his guide, 

Nothing to tremble at, nothing to hide, 

Be he a noble, or be he in trade, 

This is the Gentleman NATURE has made. 



SENSIBILITY 

BY HANNAH MORE 

Since trifles make the sum of human things. 
And half our misery from our foibles springs; 
Since life's best joys consist in peace and ease, 
And though but few can serve, yet all may 

please ; 
O let the ungentle spirit learn from hence, 
A small unkindness is a great offense. 



380 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



To spread large bounties though we wish in vain. 
Yet all may shun the guilt of giving pain. 
To bless mankind with tides of flowing wealth, 
With rank to grace them, or to crown with health, 
Our little lot denies; yet liberal still, 
God gives its counterpoise to every ill ; 
Nor let us nuirmur at our stinted powers. 
When kindness, love, and concord may be ours. 

The gift of ministering to others' ease. 

To all her sons impartial Heaven decrees; 

The gentle offices of patient love. 

Beyond all flattery, and all price above; 

The mild forbearance at a brother's fault. 

The angry word suppressed, the taunting thought : 

Subduing and subdued the petty strife, 

Which clouds the color of domestic life; 

The sober comfort, all the peace which springs 

From the large aggregate of little things ; 

On these small cares of daughter, wife, and 

friend. 
The almost sacred joys of Home depend: 
There, Sensibility, thou best mayst reign — 
Home is thy true, legitimate domain. 

DON'T YOU SEE? 

The boy who at the corner stands, 
With open mouth and listless air, 
Who in his pockets thrusts his hands, 

And shows no signs of thought or care; 
Who idly dreams, who rarely works. 
Who needful tasks or duty shirks, 
Though kind in manner he may be. 
There's much that's lacking — don't you see? 

The boy who will neglect his book 

Eor noisy game of bat and ball, 
For gun and dog, or rod and hook, 

Or for a dance — for one or all — • 
Will find he's made a grand mistake. 
Can games the place of knowledge take? 
When on the top round he would be. 
He'll find he's lacking — don't you see? 

The girl who at the window waits 
With idle hands and dreamy look. 

Who by her actions says she hates 
The household work of maid or cook ; 

Who lets her mother work away 

While she indulges in her play; 

Howe'er refined that girl may be. 

There's much that's lacking — don't you see? 

The girl whose lessons always show 
No earnest work, no careful thought, 

Who fails in what she ought to know 
When skilful test of work is brought, 



That girl will fail to win the prize — 
Will fail while earnest workers rise; 
A grand success she'll never be. 
There's too much lacking— don't you see? 



IS IT YOU? 

There is a child — a boy or girl— 

I'm sorry it is true — 
Who doesn't mind when spoken to: 

Is it — it isn't you? 

Oh no, it can't be you ! 

I know a child — a boy or girl — 

I'm loath to say I do — 
Who struck a little playmate child: 

Was it — it wasn't you? 

I hope it wasn't you ! 



LOVE OF COUNTRY AND OF HOME 

BY J;\MES MONTGOMERY 

There is a land, of every land the pride. 
Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside; 
Where brighter suns dispense serener light. 
And milder moons imparadise the night: 
A land of beauty, virtue, valor, truth, 
Time-tutored age, and love-exalted youth. 

The wandering mariner, whose eye explores 
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores, 
Views not a realm so bountiful and fair. 
Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air; 
In every clime, the magnet of his soul. 
Touched by remembrance, trembles to that pole : 

For in this land of Heaven's peculiar grace, 
The heritage of nature's noblest race, 
There is a spot of earth supremely blest, 
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest, 
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside 
His sword and scepter, pageantry and pride, 
While, in his softened looks, benignly blend 
The sire, the son, the husband, father, friend. 

Here woman reigns ; the mother, daughter, wife. 
Strews with fresh flowers the narrovvf way of life ; 
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye. 
An angel-guard of loves and graces lie; 
Around her knees domestic duties meet, 
And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet. 
Where shall that land, that spot of earth be 

found ? 
Art thou a man ? a patriot ? look around ; 
Oh! thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, 
That land thy country, and that spot thy home. 





EVERY-DAY VERSES 

BY ALDEN ARTHUR KNIPE 

PIC'TL'kES BY EMILIE BENSON KNIPE 

GETTING DRESSED GRACE FOR A CHILD AT BREAKFAST 




Here 's a foot and here 's a shoe, 

See that they agree. 
If both are right or l)oth are left 

They '11 fit quite easily ; 

But if the little foot is left, 

You '11 tug with all your might 

And never get to breakfast, if 
The little shoe is right. 



At the taljle, ere we sit, 
W'e must never Grace omit; 
But, for all the good things here, 
Thank our Heavenly Father dear. 
So, a little child, I pray, 
When we work or when we play, 
Blessings on this day begun 
For ourselves and every one : 
Amen. 






GOING TO SCHOOL 

Down the lane to school we go, 
Never too fast and never too slow, 
Never a-stopping to talk or play. 
Never a-loitering on the way. 
Never a-halting for trees to climb, 
Never a-guessing there 's plenty of time. 
Never a-pausing to see the view, 
Never a-looking for something new. 
Never a turn from the road that 's straight, 
And that 's the reason we NEVER are late. 

A GOOD MEMORY 

He might forget his book or slate 
When he was just a little late; 
But you will never, never find 
A boy who leaves his lunch behind. 

382 





EVERY-DAY VERSES 



BY ALDEN ARTHUR KNIFE 

PICTL'RES liY EMILIE BENSON KNIPE 

CLEAN HANDS 

Of course they 're clean at breakfast, 

But licfore the other meals 
Your hamls will both necl washing. 

Anil voii '11 like the way it feels. 

So while I 'ni on this subject, 
"With a line or two to spare. 

Perhaps it 's well to mention, 
That you also brush your hair. 

NEATNESS IN SCHOOL 

When school is over for the day 
And books and pencils put away, 
Remember, please, in every case, 
That all things have their proper place. 
A tid}' desk arranged just so 
Will save a lot of time, you know; 
A little bo_\- I knew was late 
Because he could n't find his slate. 





BED TIME 

Before the last good-night is said, 
And ere he tumbles into bed, 
A little child should have a care 
And not forget to say a prayer 
To God, the Father, who, with love, 
Looks down on children from above 
To guard them always, night and day. 
And guide their feet upon the way. 





LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



LAD AND HIS NEIGHBOR 

I HAD, said William Lad, the apostle of peace, a 
fine field of grain, growing upon an out-farni, at 
some distance from the homestead. Whenever I 
rode by I saw my neighbor Pulcifer's sheep in the 
lot, destroying my hopes of a harvest. These 
sheep were of the gaunt, long-legged kind, active 
as spaniels: they would spring over the highest 
fence, and no partition wall could keep them out. 

I complained to neighbor Pulcifer about them, 
sent him frequent messages, but all without avail. 
Perhaps thev would be kept out for a day or two ; 
but the legs of his sheep were long, and my grain 
more tempting than the adjoining pasture. I rode 
by again — the sheep were still there : I became 
angry, and told my men to set the dogs on 
them: and, if that would not do, I would pay 
them if thev would shoot the sheep. 

I rode away much agitated ; for I was not so 
much of a peace man then as I am now, and I 
felt full of fight. All at once, a light flashed in 
upon me. I asked myself, "Would it not be well 
for you to try in your own conduct the peace 
principle you are teaching to others?" I thought 
it all over, and settled down in my mind as to the 
best course to be pursued. The next day I rode 
over to see neighbor Pulcifer. I found him chop- 
ping wood at his door. 

"Good morning, neighbor !" No answer. "Good 
morning!" I repeated. He gave a kind of grunt 
without looking up. "I came," continued I, "to 
see about the sheep." At this, he threw down his 
a.\ and exclaimed, in an angry manner: "Now, 
aren't you a pretty neighbor, to tell your men to 
kill my sheep? I heard of it; a rich man, like 
you, to shoot a poor man's sheep!" 

"I was wrong, neighbor," said I ; "but it won't 
do to let your sheep eat up all that grain; so I 
came over to say that I would take your sheep 
to my homestead pasture, and put them in with 
mine; and in the fall you shall take them back, 
and if any one is missing, you may take your pick 
out of my whole flock." 

Pulcifer looked confounded; he did not know 
how to take me. At last he stammered out : 
"Now, 'Squire, are you in earnest?" "Certainly 
I am," I answered ; "it is better for me to feed 
your sheep in my pasture on grass, than to feed 
them here on grain ; and I see the fence can't keep 
them out." 

After a moment's silence, "The sheep shan't 
trouble you any more," exclaimed Pulcifer. "I 
will fetter them all. But I'll let you know that 
when any man talks of shooting, I can shoot too ; 
and when they are kind and neighborly, I can be 
kind too." 



385 

The .sheep never again trespassed on my lot. 
"And, my friends," Lad would continue when 
addressing an audience, "remember that when you 
talk of injuring your neighbors, they will talk of 
injuring you. When nations threaten to fight, 
(ither nations will be ready too. Love will beget 
l(jve; a wish to be at peace will keep you in peace. 
Vou can overcome evil with good. There is no 
other way." 



FORGIVE AND FORGET 

BY MARTIN FARQUHAR TUPPER 

A\'hen streams of unkindness as bitter as gall 

Bubble up from the heart to the tongue. 
And Meekness is writhing in torment and thrall, 

By the hanrls of Ingratitude wrung — 
In the heat of injustice, unwept and unfair. 

While the anguish is festering yet. 
None, none but an angel of God can declare, 

"I now can forgive and forget." 

But, if the bad spirit is chased from the heart. 

And the lips are in penitence steeped. 
With the wrong so repented the wrath will depart. 

Though scorn on injustice were heaped; 
For the best compensation is paid for all ill. 

When the cheek with contrition is wet, 
And every one feels it is possible still 

At once to forgive and forget. 

To forget? It is hard for a man with a mind. 

However his heart may forgive. 
To blot out all insults and evils behind, 

And but for the future to live: 
Then how shall it be ? for at every turn 

Recollection the spirit shall fret. 
And the ashes of injury smolder and burn, 

Though we strive to forgive and forget. 

Oh, hearken ! my tongue shall the riddle unseal, 

And mind shall be partner with heart. 
While thee to thyself I bid conscience reveal. 

And show thee how evil thou art: 
Remember thy follies, thy sins, and— thy crimes, 

How vast is that infinite debt ! 
Yet Mercy hath seven by seventy times 

Been swift to forgive and forget! 

Brood not on insults or injuries old. 

For thou art injurious too — 
Count not their sum till the total is told, 

For thou art unkind and untrue: 
And if all thy harms are forgotten, forgiven. 

Now mercy with justice is met; 
Oh, who would not gladly take lessons of Heaven, 

Nor learn to forgive and forget? 



386 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



\ es, yes ; let a man when his enemy weeps 

Be quick to receive him a friend ; 
For thus on his head in kindness he heaps 

Hot coals — to refine and amend; 
And hearts that are Christian more eagerly yearn. 

As a nurse on her innocent pet. 
Over lips that, once bitter, to penitence turn, 

And whisper, "Forgive and forget." 

SUPPOSING 

Supposing the grass should forget to grow, 
And the wayside rose should forget to blow, 

Because they were tired and lazy: 
Supposing children forgot to be kind. 
Forgot their lessons, forgot to mind — ■ 

Wouldn't the world seem crazy ? 

WHERE IS GOD? 

In the sun, the moon, and sky. 
On the mountains wild and high, 
In the thunder, in the rain. 
In the vale, the wood, the plain. 
In the little birds which sing, 
God is seen in everything. 

HONOR 

Here is a great matter that we should like to 
help boys and girls to think about, and we are 
sure that if they think about it rightly they will 
wish to speak and act rightly in all things. 

First, then, think of the zvord "honor." Have 
you a clear idea of the meaning of this word? 
If not, try to get a clear idea of' it, then enlarge 
that idea by reading and rereading the definition 
in a good dictionary. You will find that "honor" 
is related to a large family of great and good 
words, among which are honesty, character, love, 
respect, and courtesy. 

Now read the following questions and hints, 
but take them up for greater thought and consid- 
eration day by day, as you are pondering over 
this subject: 

What is honor? Should honor be cultivated? 
Does it help to make a strong character or a 
weak one? What is character? What is repu- 
tation ? Which would you rather have, a fine 
reputation or a fine character ? How can you 
build character? How can you develop honor 
in your home relations? How in school? Do 
you think you must work for honor, or will it 
develop easily and without effort on your part? 
Do you think the things in life really worth hav- 
ing are gained with or without striving? Do you 



think the attainment of honor is desirable? Does 
it pav in business relations? How hard are you 
willing to work that you may possess it? 

If you are "honor" boys and girls will you 
study when your teacher is absent from the 
schoolroom just as faithfully as when she is pres- 
ent? \\'{\\ you carefully do work as requested 
by your mother when she is absent, the same as 
if she were present? Will you carefully study 
during the set time for preparation of a certain 
lesson, or will you dawdle the time away ? 

Let us look at this subject from another stand- 
point. Parents should remember, and children 
should be taught, that every manufactured article 
is produced at a cost of labor, time, and money, 
and should be used with care, whether the article 
belongs to them or to another. If text-books are 
furnished free of cost, pupils must understand 
that while free of cost to them, the}' are not so 
to the taxpa)'ers, and they must show apprecia- 
tion by a desire to pass them on to their succes- 
sors in good condition. Destructiveness in child- 
hood is chiefly due to thoughtlessness, and unless 
corrected will lead to shiftlessness. Landlords 
might cease to be victims to a class of tenants 
who say: "We don't care anything about this 
house, you know; it is only rented,'' if all children 
were given such teaching in school, and if they 
learned to follow it. 

Boys and girls, a true sense of honor will lead 
you to consider the rights of others, the proper 
conduct toward them. By "others" we mean 
parents, teachers, companions, servants, strangers, 
janitors, and everybody with whom you come in 
contact. 

What, in particular, are the rights of parents? 
They have the right to your love, courtesy, and 
respect ; to your ready and cheerful obedience ; to 
your helpfulness, because every child should have 
some work to do in the home that would add to 
the comfort of all; to your care of your clothing, 
that additional burdens may not be laid upon 
your parents. These are some of the rights of 
parents that children should always remember. 

What are the rights of teachers? They have 
the right to your courtesy and respect; to your 
cheerful and ready obedience ; to your cooperation 
in making the school the best possible ; to expect 
honor and honesty in the preparation of daily 
work ; to expect that you be punctual and regular 
in attendance ; to pleasant, kind, obliging, help- 
ful ways on your part. 

By such an attitude toward parents and teach- 
ers, children are building character of the right 
sort, are learning to act according to the mean- 
ing of this wo'd "honor'' toward all with whom 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNKRS AND MORALS 



387 



they associate. In the end all who so live and 
act will receive even more than they can gi\'c. 

"Honor" contains only five letters, hut it is a 
great word. Will you not think of it every day ? 

THE TRUANT 

BY S. A. HUDSON 

Tommy thought there was nobody looking 
When he came running over the hill ; 

Stopping to hide in a thicket of willows. 
Till the bell in the village was still. 

Tommv thought there was no one to see him. 
None in the road, or the fields, or the wood. 

But all the willows, and all the grasses, 
And daisies could see where he stood. 

All the buttercups clustering together. 
All the wild roses that grew by the wav 

Laughed and rustled, "See Tommy, see Tommy, 
Oh, Tommy plays truant to-day." 

Bees and butterflies flying before him 

Told the story deep in the wood, 
"Here comes Tommv, here comes Tommy, 

Here's Tommy who hasn't lieen gond." 

Saucy waves softly laughed from the river, 
"Aha ! Tommy had lessons to-day. 

And yet he's so terribly lazy and dull 
That he has to run away." 

So it was, wherever he wandered, 

And whatever he tried to do. 
All things upbraided the truant lad ; 

And I think he deserved it — don't vou ? 



MOTHER'S CHILDREN 

My mother's almost crazy. 
Her children are so bad ; 

And great big sister Daisy 
Does make her dreadful sad — 
So she says. 

And Daisy is an awful girl. 
Her nice new frock she tored ; 

And 'cause she had her hair to curl. 
Why she — why she just roared 
Yesterday. 

Guess Fm sometimes awful too. 

Oh yes I am, I know ; 
But what's a little girl to do 

When she doesn't want to sew, 
'Cause she can't? 



She's gi)t to cry, be cross too. 

When she's as small as me; 
That's all the way she has to do, 

When she's tired — don't you see? 
'Course you do. 

When Lm really good and nice 
Through all the great long day. 

Papa calls me "Pearl of Price," 
And mother's glad to say, 
".She was good." 

WHOLE DUTY OF CHILDREN 

A CHILD should always say what's true 
And speak when he is spoken to, 
And liehave mannerly at table: 
At least as far as he is able. 

Robert Louis Stevenson. 

LOKMAN 

LoKiiAX, called "The Wise," lived in very early 
times — probably in the days of King David and 
King Solomon — and his name is still famous in 
the East as the inventor of many fables and par- 
ables, and various stories are told of his wisdom. 
It was said that he was a native of Ethiopia, and 
either a tailor, a carpenter, or a shepherd; and 
that afterward he was a slave in various coun- 
tries, and was at last sold among the Israelites. 

One day, as he was seated in the midst of a 
companv who were all listening to him with great 
attentiiin and respect, a Jew of high rank, look- 
ing earnestly at him, asked him whether he was 
not the same man whom he had seen keeping 
the sheep of one of his neighbors. Lokman said 
he was. "And how," said the other, "did you, a 
poor slave, come to be so famous as a wise man?" 

"Bv exactly observing these rules," replied 
Lokman : "Always speak the truth without dis- 
guise; strictly keep your promises; and do not 
meddle with what does not concern you." 

Another time, he said that he had learned his 
wisdom from the blind, who will believe nothing 
Init what they hold in their hands— meaning that 
he always examined things, and took great pains 
to find "ut the truth. 

Being once sent, with some other slaves, to 
bring fruit, his companions ate a great deal of it, 
and then said it was he who had eaten it; on 
which he drank warm water to make himself sick, 
and thus proved that he had no fruit in his 
stomach ; and the other slaves, being obliged to 
do the same, were found out. 

Another storv of him is tliat, his master having 
•riven him fruit of the colocynth, which is one of 



388 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



the bitterest things in the world, Lokman imme- 
diately ate it all up, without making faces, or 
showing the least dislike. His master, quite sur- 
prised, said, "How was it possible for j'ou to 
swallow so bitter a fruit?" Lokman replied, "I 
have received so many sweets from you, that it 
is not wonderful that I should have swallowed 
the only bitter fruit you ever gave me." His 
master was so much struck by this generous 
and grateful answer, that he immediately re- 
warded him by giving him his liberty. 

At this day, "to teach Lokman" is a common 
saying in the East, to express a thing impossible. 
It is said, too, that Lokman was as good as he 
was wise ; and, indeed, it is the chief part of wis- 
dom to be good. He was particularly remarkable 
for his love to God, and his reverence of his holy 
name. He is reported to have lived to a good 
old age; and, many centuries after, a tomb in the 
little town of Ramlah, not far from Jerusalem, 
was pointed out as Lokman's. 



THE LARK'S SONG 

A LARK flew up from its dewy nest 

Beside a meadow daisy. 
And swelling its throat, sang loud and clear. 

As if with joy 't were crazy, 
"Wake up! wake up!" were the words it sang; 

"The world is growing lazy : 
In through yon window I peep and see 

A maiden soundly sleeping. 
Wake up, little girl ! don't wait for the sun 

To begin his tardy creeping, 
Lest for unlearned lessons and tasks undone 

At eve you may be weeping." 

LOOK ALOFT 

BY JONATHAN LAWRENCE 

In the tempest of life, when the wave and the 

gale 
Are around and above, if thy footing should fail, 
If thine eye should grow dim, and thy caution 

depart, 
"Look aloft!" and be firm, and be fearless of 

heart. 

If the friend who embraced in prosperity's glow. 
With a smile for each joy, and a tear for each 

woe. 
Should betray thee when sorrows like clouds are 

arrayed, 
"Look aloft" to the friendship which never shall 

fade. 



Should the visions which hope spreads in light to 

thine eye. 
Like the tints of the rainbow, but brighten to fly, 
Then turn, and, through tears of repentant regret, 
"Look aloft" to the Sun that is never to set. 

Should they who are nearest and dearest thy 

heart, 
Thy friends and companions, in sorrow depart, 
"Look aloft" from the darkness and dust of the 

tomb. 
To that soil v\'here affection is ever in bloom. 

And, oh I when Death comes, in his terrors, to 

cast 
His fears on the future, his pall on the past, 
In that moment of darkness, with hope in thy 

heart 
And a smile in thine eye, "Look aloft" — and 

depart. 

I'LL TRY 

Two Robin Redbreasts built their nest 

Within a hollow tree ; 
The hen sat quietly at home, 

The cock sang merrily ; 
And all the little robins said : 

"Wee, wee, wee, wee, wee, wee." 

One day the sun was warm and bright, 

And shining in the sky ; 
Cock Robin said "My little dears, 

'T is time you learned to fly"; 
And all the little young ones said 

"I'll try, I'll try, I'll try." 

I know a child, and who she is 

I'll tell you by and by; 
When mother says "Do this," or "that," 

She says "What for?" and "Why?" 
She'd be a better child by far 

If she would say "I'll try." 

KINDNESS 

Boys and girls, don't read these remarks on kind- 
ness until you have thought about the word and 
its meaning for at least four minutes, and have 
read the definition of it in a dictionary. Perhaps 
you think you know what kindness really means — 
but you don't unless you have read the definition 
of the word in the dictionary, and thought about 
it, and talked about it, and practised it for many, 
many days. 

You cannot learn to swim by reading about 
swimming, and you cannot learn kindness by read- 
ing about it. To learn either in any true sense 




■I-'JiliU MY LAMIiS. 



'So when they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of Jonas, lovcst ibou me more than tliese? 

He saith unto him, Yea, Lord ; thou knowest tliat I love thee. He saith unto him. 

Feed my lambs." — St. John xxi. 15. 

389 



390 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANI^fERS AND MORALS 



you must practise. If you have been sour and 
disagreeable and "sassy," you cannot be kind all 
day and every day until you have tried and tried 
and tried. Skilful skating and true kindness 
only come by thought and practice. One of the 
sweetest and kindest beings we ever knew was a 
woman nearly eighty years of age. She had been 
practising this splendid art for nearly eighty 
years. Think of it — the art of kindness ! It is 
an art to be learned like that of conversation, or 
the art of speaking clearly. 

After first thinking about kindness and looking 
in a dictionary for the definition of it, I would 
then divide it into four parts and consider each 
part separately. 

First : kindness to fiarents — the children's best 
friends. 

Second : kindness to teachers, the next best 
friends of the children. 

Third : kindness to brothers, sisters, com- 
panions, and the world in general. 

Fourth: kindness to animals. 

If you, my unknown and unseen readers, were 
now with me in my little library and I should ask 
you why your parents were your best friends, you 
would all want to speak at once and say : "They 
give us food, clothes, a bed; they work for us"; 
and then some little girl would give the highest 
and best reason of all — "They love us." 

First. I wish, girls and boys, that space would 
permit me to tell you how to show your love for 
your parents — by kind words, kind thoughts, and 
kind deeds — but you must work out these thoughts 
for yourselves. 

Second. You can show kindness to your 
teacher by yielding cheerfully to obedience, by 
doing your best in your studies, by being orderly, 
unselfish, and courteous, and in many other ways 
that you can think of a great deal better than I 
can, because my school-days ended nearly forty 
years ago. 

Third. Boys and girls, I am going to ask you 
to think of six ways by which you can show 
kindness to companions. Won't you write them 
out and then think about them again and again ? 

Fourth. I believe that every boy and girl that 
I am talking to loves animals. I am sure every 
girl does. If any boy who is reading this little 
chapter is cruel to animals, I don't want to talk 
to him, even in imagination. He must answer 
these questions carefully, or I shall not permit 
him to be in mv class: If you saw a little bird 
on the grass beaten from its nest by a heavy 
storm, what would you do? If you saw a lot of 
boys stoning a cat, or if you saw a horse beaten 
when it was doing all it could — what would you 



think ? What would you say ? What Vvfould you 
do? 

Answer these questions according to your own 
sense of right and wrong. Boys and girls, be 
sure that you think about these things ! 

A GOOD THANKSGIVING 

BY MARI.OiN DOUGLAS 

Said old Gentleman Gay, "On a Thanksgiving 

day, 
If you want a good time, then give something 

away" ; 
So he sent a fat turkey to Shoemaker Price, 
And the shoemaker said: "What a big bird! how 

nice ! 
And, since a good dinner's before me, I ought 
To give poor Widow Lee the small chicken I 

bought." 

"This fine chicken, oh see!" said the pleased 

Widow Lee, 
"And the kindness that sent it, how precious to 

me ! 
I would like to make some one as happy as I — 
I'll give Washwoman Biddy my big pumpkin pie." 

"And oh, sure!" Biddy said, " 't is the queen of 
all pies ! 

Just to look at its yellow face gladdens my eyes ! 

Now it's my turn, I think, and a sweet ginger- 
cake 

For the motherless Finigan children I'll bake." 

"A sweet-cake, all our own ! 'T is too good to 

be true !" 
Said the Finigan children. Rose, Denny, and 

Hugh ; 
"It smells sweet of spice, and we'll carry a slice 
To poor little lame Jake — who has nothing that's 

nice." 

"Oh, I thank vou, and thank you !" said little lame 

Jake, 
"Oh what a bootiful, bootiful, bootiful cake I 
And oh, such a big slice ! I will save all the 

crumbs. 
And will give 'em to each little sparrow that 

comes !" 
And the sparrows they twittered, as if they would 

say. 
Like old Gentleman Gay, "On a Thanksgiving 

day. 
If you want a good time, then give something 

away." 



LITTLE TALKS ON M 
PRAYER AND POTATOES 

An old lady sat in her nld arniciiair. 
With wrinkled \'ihage and disheveled hair, 

And hnnger-worn features: 
For days and for weeks her onh' fare, 
As she sat in her old armchair. 

Had been potatoes. 

But now they were gone : of bad or good 
Not one was left for the o\d lady's food. 

Of those potatoes : 
And she sighed and said, 'A\diat shall I do? 
Where shall I send, and to whom shall I go. 

For more potatoes?" 

And as she thought of the deacon over the way. 
The deacon so ready to worship and prav. 

Wliose cellar was full of potatnes. 
She said. "I will send for the deacon to come; 
He'll not much mind to give me some 

Of such a store of potatoes." 

And the deacon came o\'er as fast as he could, 
Thinking to do (he old lady some good, 

But ne\'er for once of potatoes. 
He asked her at once wdiat was her chief want, 
And she, simple soul, expecting a grant. 

Immediately answered, "Potatoes." 

But the deacon's religion didn't lie that way ; 
He was more accustomed to preach and pray 

Than to give his hoarded potatoes: 
So, not hearing, of course, what the old lady said, 
He rose to pray with uncovered head. 

But she only thought of potatoes. 

He prayed for patience, goodness and grace, 
But when he prayed "Lord, give her peace,'' 

She audibly sighed, "Give potatoes." 
And at the end of each prayer which he said, 
He heard, or thought he heard, in its stead. 

That same request for potatoes. 

Deacon was troubled — knew not what to do; 
T was very embarrassing to have her act so ; 

And about those carnal potatoes. 
So ending his prayers he started for home; 
The door closed behind, he heard a deep groan, 

"Oh, give to the hungry potatoes !" 
And the groan followed him all the way home ; 
In the midst of the night it haunted his room, 

"Oh, give to the hungry potatoes !" 
He could bear it no longer! arose anrl dressed, 
From his well-filled cellar taking in haste 

A bag of his best potatoes. 



391 



air; 



ANNERS AND MORALS 

Again he went to the widow's lone hut; 
Her sleepless eyes she had not yet shut, 
But there she sat in her old armchair, 
With the same wan features, same wan 
And, entering in, he poured on the floor 
A bushel or more from Ins goodly store 
Of choicest potatoes. 

The widow's heart leaped up for joy. 
Her face was haggard and pale no more, 
"Now," said the deacon, "shall we pray?" 
"Yes," said the widow, "now you may." 
Ami he knelt him down on the sanded floor, 
Where he had poured out his goodly store; 
And such a prayer the deacon prayed 
As never before his lips essayed. 
Xo longer embarrassed, but free and full. 
He poured out the voice of a liberal soul, 
And the widow responded a loud "Amen !" 
But said no more of potatoes. 

And would you hear this simple tale — 

Pray for the poor, and praying, prevail ? 

Then preface your prayer with alms and good 

deeds ; 
Search out the poor, their wants and needs; 
Pray for their peace and grace, spiritual food. 
For wisdom and guidance: all these are good; 
But don't forget the potatoes ! 



THE CRUEL BOY 

Richard is a cruel boy, 

(The people call him "Dick"), 

For every day he seems to try 
Some new improper trick ! 

He takes delight in whipping cats, 
And pulling off their fur; 

Although at first he gently pats. 
And listens to their purr. 

A naughty boy I unless he mends 

He will be told to strip. 
And learn how such amusement ends. 

By feeling his own whip. 



KINDNESS TO ANIMALS 

Little children, never give 
Pain to things that feel and live; 
Let the gentle robin come 
For the crumbs you save at home. 
As his meat you throw along, 
He'll repay you with a song. 
Never hurt the timid hare. 
Peeping from her green grass lair; 



392 



LITTTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



Let her come and sport and play 
On the lawn at close of day. 
The little lark goes soaring high 
To the bright windows of the sky, 
Singing as if 't were always spring, 
And fluttering on an untired wing. 
Oh ! let him sing his happy song, 
Nor do these gentle creatures wrong. 

GOOD COMPANY 

In making friends we make our life. There is 
nothing more important. A man or woman's life 
may be ruined by choosing in childhood a bad 
friend. 

Every person alive is subject to influence from 
outside ; every one is affected in his feelings by 
people and things. A bright day makes us cheer- 
ful, a gloomy day often makes us depressed. We 
do not feel by the seaside as we feel in a city. 
Our mind is like a looking-glass, which reflects 
whatever looks into it. 

Have you ever noticed that there are some 
people who make you happy and cheerful, while 
others make you tired and sad? Why is that? 

The mind is always breathing out its influence. 
A gloomy person, although he may not say a 
word, and may even try to laugh and be merry, 
is always breathing out from his mind a melan- 
choly influence. He cannot help it. It is the 
same with evil people. Although a bad person 
may pretend to be good, and may say things 
which are noble and pure, there comes from his 
mind an influence which we feel at once is not 
wholesome. 

Now, it very often happens that the boy with 
a bad nature is a boy of strong character. There 
is something about him which has a mastering 
effect upon others. It is difficult to shake him 
off; it is hard to avoid him; it is not easy to say 
"No" when he proposes something wrong. 

There is only one way of escape. Directly you 
know that your future happiness and success de- 
pend upon your choice of friends, you will make 
yourself strong to resist this evil influence. Make 
sure that you can be intimate with no one without 
some effect being produced in your mind, and you 
will grow to be as masterful for good as your bad 
companion is for evil. 

Good company is the society of those people 
who encourage us to take an intelligent interest 
in life. There are some boys and girls who work- 
hard because they want to increase their knowl- 
edge, who are keen on games and exercise, who 
read books, who study Nature, and are able to 
talk about interesting things. In all schools there 



is this little aristocracy of intelligence. Let it 
be your chief aim to become a member of it. 
Cultivate a contempt for anything base and ig- 
noble. Cultivate a keenness for everything man- 
ful, wholesome, and intelligent. And when you 
have established yourself in this little aristocracy 
of intelligence, you will find yourself proof 
against evil influence. The bad boy, with all his 
masterfulness, will have no power over you. 

Be wise, and keep yourself clear of company 
which rouses your worst instincts, and makes you 
curious about subjects which intelligent people 
do not discuss. Cultivate your friends among the 
best people — people who read and think, who are 
too strong to be impure, and too conscious of the 
greatness of this beautiful universe to live petty, 
insignificant, and evil lives. 

If you would be happy, if you would avoid all 
risk of ruin, avoid every kind of company in 
which the best side of your nature does not al- 
ways feel at its ease. 



HAPPY THOUGHT 

The world is so full of a number of things, 

I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings. 

Robert Louis Stevenson. 



THE WORLD'S MUSIC 

BY G.-^BRIEL SETOUN 

The world's a very happy place. 

Where every child should dance and sing, 

And always have a smiling face, 
And never sulk for anything, 

I waken when the morning's come. 
And feel the air and light alive 

With strange sweet music like the hum 
Of bees about their busy hive. 

The linnets play among the leaves 
At hide-and-seek, and chirp and sing; 

While, flashing to and from the eaves. 
The swallows twitter on the wing. 

The twigs that shake, and boughs that sway; 

And tall old trees you could not climb; 
And winds that come, but cannot stay. 

Are gaily singing all the time. 

From dawn to dark the old mill-wheel 
Makes music, going round and round; 

And dusty-white with flour and meal. 
The miller whistles to its sound. 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



And if you listen to the rain 

When leaves and birds and bees are dumb, 
You hear it pattering on the pane 

Like Andrew beating on his drum. 

The coals beneath the kettle croon. 

And clap their hands and dance in glee ; 

And even the kettle hums a tunc 
To tell you when it's time for tea. 

The world is such a happy place. 

That children, whether big or small, 
Should always have a smiling face. 

And never, never sulk at all. 



A CHILD'S PRAYER 

BY MATILDA B. ED\\'ARDS 

God, make my life a little light 

\Vithin the world to glow : 
A little flame that burneth bright, 

\\'herever I may go. 

God, make my life a little flower 

That giveth joy to all. 
Content to bloom in native bower. 

Although the place be small. 

God, make my life a little song 

That comforteth the sad : 
That helpeth others to be strong. 

And makes the singer glad. 

God, make my life a little staff 
Whereon the weak may rest. 

That so what health and strength I have 
May serve my neighbors best, 

God, make my life a little hymn 

Of tenderness and praise; 
Of faith — that never waxeth dim, 

In all his wondrous wavs. 



RULES FOR CONVERSATION 

BY SIR MATTHEW HALE 

I. Never speak anything for a truth which you 
know or believe to be false. Lying is a great 
offense against humanity itself; for where there 
is no regard to truth there can be no safe society 
between man and man. And it is an injury to 
the speaker; for, besides the disgrace which it 
brings upon him, it occasions so much baseness 
of mind that he can scarcely tell truth, or avoid 
lying, even when he has no necessity for it. In 
time he comes to such a pass, that as other peo- 



393 

pie cannot believe he speaks the truth, so he him- 
self scarcely knows when he tells a falsehood. 

2. As you nuist be careful not to lie, so you 
must avoid coming near it. You must not equivo- 
cate, nor speak anything positively for which 
you have no authority but report. 

3. Let your words be few, lest you rob yourself 
of the opportunity to gain knowledge, wisdom, 
and experience by listening to those whom you 
silence by your "impertinent talking." 

4. Be not too earnest, loud, or violent in your 
conversation. Silence your opponent with reason, 
not with noise. 

5. Be careful not to interrupt another while he 
is speaking. Hear him out, and you will under- 
stand him the better, and be able to give him the 
better answer. 

6. Consider before you speak, especially when 
the business is of moment. Weigh the sense of 
what you mean to utter, and the expressions you 
intend to use. 

7. When you are in company with light, vain, 
impertinent persons, let the observing of their 
failings make you the more cautious, both in your 
con\'ersation with them and in your general be- 
havior, that you may avoid their errors. 

8. Be careful that you do not commend your- 
self. It is a sign that your reputation is small 
and sinking if your own tongue must praise you; 
and it is fulsome and unpleasing to others to hear 
such commendations. 

9. Speak well of the absent whenever you have 
a suitable opportunity. Never speak ill of them 
or of anybodv unless you are sure they deserve 
it, and unless it is necessary for their amend- 
ment, or for the safety and benefit of others. 

10. Do not scoff and jest at the condition or 
natural defects of any person. Such offenses 
have a deep impression. 

Tl. Be very careful you give no reproachful, 
threatening, or spiteful words to any person. 
When faults are reproved, let it be done without 
reproach or bitterness. Otherwise the reproach 
will lose its due end, and, instead of reforming, 
it will exasperate the offender and lay the re- 
prover open to reproof. 

12. If a person be passionate, and give you ill 
language, rather pity him than be moved to anger. 
You will find that silence or very gentle words 
are the best revenge for reproaches. They will 
either cure the angry man, and make him sorry 
for his passion, or they will be a sore reproof 
and punishment to him. But, at any rate, they 
will preserve your innocence, give you the repu- 
tation of wisdom and moderation, and keep up 
the serenity and composure of your mind. 



394 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



BE PURE IN SPEECH 

WHY DO SO MANY MEN AND BOYS SWEAR? 

Profane oaths are always and everywhere in bad 
taste; and bad taste is bad breeding. It is an 
accepted axiom that gentlemen never swear; it 
is not for us here to decide who are and who are 
not gentlemen, but we fancy that if any gentle- 
man should swear he would quit when he had re- 
flected on the matter. Possibly one may be a 
gentleman essentially, and yet have grave defects; 
but it is the spirit of gentlemanliness to master 
evil when it is known to be evil. 

Oaths are an offense to those who do not swear. 
Thoughtfulness for the comfort and happiness of 
others ought to move the profane to cease a prac- 
tice that gives pain to those around them. All 
these considerations are apart from the right and 
wrong of the matter. There is a right use of 
speech and a wrong one; and curses, coarse 
phrases, and irreverent uses of the Divine name 
are indisputably on the wrong side of things. 
The profane man becomes a source of contagion 
and degradation and offense. And, most of all, 
we have the high reason that we are divinely 
commanded, "Swear not at all." 

Not less to be guarded against than swearing 
is vulgarity of speech, which includes vulgar 
words, vulgar jests, and vulgar stories. Once 
when a man began a coarse story in the presence 
of General Grant, that soldier rebuked him and 
made him keep silent. It may not always be 
possible to restrain the foul-mouthed : but one 
may easily show the vulgar jester that his con- 
versation is not relished — may administer a re- 
buke by silence or in words, or may depart and 
allow the vile-minded to enjoy their wallow alone 
or in other company. 

We hear sometimes about the advisability of 
calling "a spade a spade." Now that is most ex- 
cellent advice, for the good reason that the word 
"spade" is the right and only appropriate name 
for a spade ; it is a name of good standing, decent 
associations, and absolute fitness; it is allowed by 
every dictionary, and its usage is unquestioned. 
But when we say we will call a spade a spade, 
and then jump to the conclusion that 
words that are outlawed by good usage, 
words that are not rated high enough to be in the 
dictionary, are the right names for things, we 
have arrived at a conclusion that was not con- 
tained in our premises. 

Words become ennobled or disgraced by usage ; 
there are words of good standing and of bad 
standing. In the course of the growth of a lan- 
guage certain words are cast out of it as no 



longer usable. There may be several reasons for 
changes of this kind; one is that a new word has 
been coined to take the place of the other. An- 
other reason is that the associations of a word 
may be so bad that it is dropped. Every lan- 
guage has its black list, its word-criminals, as it 
were, or its rogue's gallery of words. No word 
that does not appear in the dictionaries of our 
day is in good standing; no word that is marked 
in the dictionaries as "vulgar" is to be used. The 
common vulgar words of our language were made 
outcasts one hundred and fifty years ago, and 
any one who uses them is just a century and a 
half behind the times in respect to our noble 
mother tongue, and is talking refuse and cast-off 
phraseology. The English language cleans house 
occasionally, and casts some of its material into 
the gutter, where it belongs. 

The better part of the world is always trying 
us by a high standard. We are all noted and 
marked socially, day by day, and men and women 
are marked by their speech as much as by any- 
thing else. The speech is the man; the words 
open up and illumine the breast. We are better 
known to each other than we imagine. People 
lose or gain respect, honor, business, clients, pa- 
tients, hearers, trade, social standing, by their 
words, by their style of conversation, by their 
jests, as much as by their manners or anything 
else. So important is language, so much a reve- 
lation of the inward nature, that we write our- 
selves dcwn on the very air, and are read and 
known of all men, whether our disposition be 
fair or foul. 



MY MOTHER'S BIBLE 

BY GEORGE P. MORRIS 

Tins book is all that's left me now! — 

Tears will unbidden start — 
With faltering lip and throbbing brow, 

I press it to my heart. 
For many generations past. 

Here is our family tree; 
My mother's hands this Bible clasped; 

She, dying, gave it me. 

Ah ! well do I remember those 

Whose names these records bear, 
Who round the hearthstone used to close 

After the evening prayer. 
And speak of what these pages said, 

In tones my he^rt would thrill 1 
Though they are with the silent dead, 

Here are they living still ! 



396 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



My father read this holy book 

To brothers, sisters dear; 
How calm was my poor mother's look, 

Who leaned God's word to hear ! 
Her angel face — I see it yet ! 

What thronging memories come ! 
Again that little group is met 

Within the halls of home ! 

Thou truest friend man ever knew. 

Thy constancy I've tried; 
Where all were false I found thee true. 

My counselor and guide. 
The mines of earth no treasures give 

That could this volume buy : 
In teaching me the way to live, 

It taught me how to die. 



THE BOY THE WORLD WANTS 

Always somewhere^ everywhere sometime, some- 
body is asking, "What are you going to be?" 
What are we going to do in the world when 
we grow up ? For we must all do something. We 
must all help on in our own way the work of 
this busy world. Yet nothing can be more diffi- 
cult to decide upon than a career for a boy or a 
girl. There are hundreds of them, most of them 
open to us all, and it is the number of our oppor- 
tunities which makes our choice so difficult. 

My dear boy, you are living at a time when to 
be a boy is the proudest thing in the world. There 
is hardly a successful man living who would not 
give his success for the years that lie before you. 
A famous man once said to me that he would 
give all he ever had to be alive in fifty years. 

The world will be a fine place to live in when 
our boys are men. What are you going to do in 
it? Are you going to muddle through somehow 
until the dark gates open that lead into another 
life, or are you going to make yourself known 
and felt, and become a power for good? You 
live in a village, perhaps, and have not seen 
much of the great world beyond ; but every ave- 
nue that leads to fame in the greatest country in 
the world begins at the door of your school. 

Nothing can keep you back if you mean to go 
forward. The roads that lead to success are 
widening more and more. You may wander in a 
hundred fields and pick your prize. 

I am sure that as you sit reading this, thinking 
perhaps of all the difficulties that you have, and 
thinking perhaps that there can never be any- 
thing but a struggling life before you, you will 
feel that what I say is all very well for others, 
but that somehow it is not true for you. 



If you think like that you may make up your 
mind at once that it is 7iot true for you, for no 
boy, and no man, can get any farther than he 
looks. Make up your mind where you are going. 
Remember, boys, that it is not the way you go 
that matters most, but how far you go that way; 
whether, when you have chosen your way, you 
quit yourselves like men. Remember that all use- 
ful work is honorable, and that the only dis- 
honor in it is if it is badly done. And the task 
that is set before every man is, not to be this, 
or that, or the other — to mind a machine, to drive 
a plow, to write a book, to paint a picture, or to 
go to Congress — the great task set before a man 
is, so to prepare himself in the days of his youth 
that in carrying on his work in the world he shall 
do all things well. 

What, then, are the qualities that we need most 
on our way through the world? There are not 
many things that all men agree about, but some 
things there are that every man knows to be true. 
And perhaps the first of these things is that to 
do anything worth doing in the world we must 
have a definite purpose. We must have an aim 
in life. We must make up our mind what we 
want to do ; how we want to do it ; and we must 
let nothing come in our way. We must think 
of time as what it really is — a treasure given to 
us for our safe keeping. 

Time, we say, is money. But time is much 
more than money, for time can do what all the 
money in the world can never do. Time can heal 
all sorrows and cure all ills, and time, if you will 
use it rightly, will give you an opportunity such 
as you can hardly think of now. Think of that, 
when you vi^aste your time, when you stand with 
your hands in your pockets looking at somebody 
else playing football, or when you stand idling in 
the street. You would not throw a dollar away, 
yet how often do you lightly waste an hour or a 
day ! We do not want forever to be bent on 
serious things, and there is time and room for all 
of us to play; but nothing is so dangerous as 
amusement, and we had better never play at all 
than let play steal away our lives and lead us to 
forget our aims. 

And we must have ambition. Do not believe 
those who would tell you there is anything wrong 
in the desire to get on in the world. There is a 
right getting-on and a wrong getting-on, and 
when we say that we want to get on I hope that 
we always mean, not merely that we want more 
mone_y in our pocket, but that we want to know 
more as well as to have more ; that we want more 
opportunities of well-doing and of well-being. 
There are low ambitions and high ambitions. Let 



LITTLK TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



397 



us see that we aim at a liit;ii |nir|)ose : in F.nicr- 
son's splciuliil words, let us liiteh tmr wagon to 
a star. 

We nnist lie resolute; we nuist have determina- 
tion. It is no use our ha\'ing ideas unless we 
mean to earry them out. It would take me a week 
to tell vou of half the things that men have said 
to be inipossihle which have been done by men of 
determination. Men said it was impossible to 
have rail\va\'s, and the man who first tried to 
make a steamship was dri\'en to tlespair by peo- 
ple who looked upon him as a man out of his 
mind. Even so wise a man as Sir Walter Scott 
once said that a man was an \d\ot because lie 
talked of lighting London bv gas. The men who 
gave us the inventions which make millions happv 
and wealthv to-dav were often ridiculed and 
driven to starvation, and we owe the pleasure we 
get from their inventions simply to their deter- 
mination, which never gave way. 

One other thing goes with determination, and 
that is concentration. Yon may have great en- 
ergv'', and vou mav put it all into your work, but 
you mav use vonr strength in such a way that it 
simply fails. We all know wdiat a spendthrift is 
— the foedish man who throws away his money in 
stupid wavs, and finds one ila\- that he has noth- 
ing left. There are spendthrifts in strength as 
well as in money, and the worst spendthrift is he 
who wastes his energy in ways which serve no 
purpose, instead of keeping it for something that 
is worth doing. Stick to your work — that is wdiat 
w-e mean bv concentration. Do not give yourself 
so manv t'b.ings to do that you can do none of 
them well. You are onl\' wasting your time if 
you fritter it away in little things that make no 
diiTerence to anybody, 

I am not yet very old, but long before you are 
as old as I am you will come to regret the time 
you wasted in these da>-s of your youth. But 
there is one thing you will never regret — you 
will never regret the time )-(->u gave to your books, 
and the attention you gave to your teacher. Men 
grow rich by using their money so that it brings 
them good interest. But nothing pays such good 
interest as the hours that a wise boy spends at 
school or with his books at home, and if there are 
any hours that a man would like to call back 
again, they are those golden hours which you can 
call yours to-day, but wdnich all too soon will be 
gone from you forever. 

Use them' well, for they are the hours in which 
you are making your name in the world. I will 
teU you of a man who has saved a million lives. 
Long before you and I were born he began to 
think about a great problem that was puzzling 



the doctors, and he had almost every one against 
him. ILardly anybody believed in him. But he 
was in earnest, and he stuck to his work, and he 
went on thinking, thinking, thinking, until at last 
there came to him a great idea wdiich has been a 
blessing to every suffering creature who has ever 
]iassed through an operation, and must have saved 
at the very least a million lives. And this splen- 
did man. Lord Lister, did this by sticking to his 
work. 

The boy wdio sticks to his work — that is the 
boy the world is waiting for. That is the boy for 
whom somebody has thousands of dollars a year. 
That is the boy for whom there is a vacant place 
at the bar, on the bench, in the pulpit, in Con- 
gress, it may be in the Presidencv itself ! That is 
the boy who will paint the picture that every- 
body will go to see. That is the boy who will 
be manager of a big business. That is the boy 
that every mother wishes her son to be. 

And that is the bov our country is waiting for 
now. There are plentA' of other bovs, plenty of 
boys wdTo will grow up to do nothing in particular 
for anybody, ami worse than nothing for them- 
selves. But the lioy that this country wants is 
the boy wdio is in earnest, the boy who is am- 
liitious, the bov who is determined. 

Be men. Be reliable. Do what you do so that 
it need not be done over again. Be a comfort to 
\-our mother, an honor to your father, a credit to 
vour school. Be bi:ild and courageous. Do not 
lie afraid if \'ou make a mistake. One of the 
most successful men in the world once said to 
me, "Never be afraid of mistakes. I have made 
many of them, and am going to make more," It 
is perfectly true that the man who never made a 
mistake never made anything. Do right because 
it is right, and be bold in doing it. 

You are growing up in one of the greatest 
countries in the world. There are many things 
to set right here, sad things and bad things that 
will crv out loud to you wdien you grow up. But 
that must alwavs be, until the end of the world, 
and what I hope you are growing up to feel about 
your country is that 'it is to be the best of all the 
countries that ever have been. You are growing 
up to take your place in it. And it is for you — 
you who will rule this land in a not far-off to- 
morrow, to keep its name untarnished. Be proud 
of your country, which has given you more than 
you can ever pay back to it. 

Be in all things honorable and courageous : be 
capable in wdiat you undertake: be afraid for 
nothing but evil : be anxious for nothing but good. 
So you will serve your country well; so you will 
honor God; so you wdll travel to your destiny 



398 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



with peace and love for 3'our companions, by a 
way which no cloud can darken, with a calm 
which none of this world's sorrows can destroy. 



THE BOYS THAT ARE WANTED 

The boys that are wanted are boys with will, 
And strength of purpose to plan and do ; 

Who can patiently keep to their aim until 
The hour has come to carry it through. 

The boys that are wanted are boys with strength 
Of muscle and lung, and eye and hand; 

Who can bear the day through its heat or length, 
And still to their duty cheerfully stand. 

The boys that are wanted are boys of truth, 
Who would scorn to utter a cowardly lie. 

And who, in their brave and stainless youth. 
Are fearless of all beneath the sky. 

The boys that are wanted are honest boys. 
That cannot be bribed, nor bought, nor sold; 

Whom neither a friend nor a foe decoys 
From the royal way that the good uphold. 

The boys that are wanted are faithful boys, 
True to their trust, whatever it be; 

True to their trust, whoever employs ; 

True, though their faithfulness none may see. 

The boys that are wanted are loving boys. 
Fond of home, and father, and mother ; 

Counting the old-fashioned household joys 
Dearer and sweeter than any other. 

These are the boys the world will need 
When she flings her baser tools aside; 

When Truth, and Honor, and Justice plead, 
These are the boys will stand by their side. 



THE GIRL THE WORLD IS WAITING FOR 

My dear girl, the world is always waiting — for 
you. It is not waiting, it is true, for every girl, 
for there are always, unhappily, thousands and 
thousands of girls who take all that they can get 
out of the world and give nothing back to it; 
and the world does not wait for these. But the 
world is always waiting for the influence without 
which it could never have been — the influence of 
a good woman. 

Wherever you go in these days, if you are old 
enough to be thinking of your place in life, you 
will find many who are asking that women may 
have more power given to them in the nation ; 
and wherever you go, if you are wise enough to 



keep your eyes open, you will find that women 
have a power that legislatures can neither give 
nor take away. And it is that wonderful power 
that you are either making or not making now. 

It is important to consider the ways in which 
a girl may earn a living, or in which she may 
do useful work whether she wishes to earn her 
living or not. It is an honorable thing for any 
girl to work, and more and more the opportuni- 
ties for girls are widening. But it is not of these 
things that I would speak to you now. You 
may be an artist, or a dressmaker, or a teacher, 
or a typewriter, or a doctor, or the manager of a 
store, and in any of these different fields you 
may succeed and win a great reward ; but no 
reward can come to you in any field unless you 
win it for yourself, and unless you turn your 
mind to it in these golden days that are passing 
now. 

I do not want you to be serious beyond your 
years, to give up play and to think of the future 
as if it were some tyrannical thing demanding 
every act and every thought and every hour of 
your present life. I want you, rather, to bring 
into your life now all the joy tliat the world holds 
for you, to store up in your memory a countless 
number of remembrances of happy days and 
beautiful things that will make looking back 
pleasant in the years to come. But the world is 
a testing-place for' a girl, and all about you 
lie temptations to give up your life to the vani- 
ties of the world. Remember, when temptations 
come, that life is made up of duties as well as 
pleasures, that we must fit ourselves to bear sor- 
row as well as to enjoy happiness. You would 
think a girl foolish who bought a year's clothes 
as if the whole year were summer; btit just as 
foolish is the girl who goes into the future as 
if time held for her nothing but sweet things. It 
is said that the best way to keep peace is to be 
prepared for war, and, however that may be, cer- 
tainly the best way to keep happiness is to be 
prepared for bitterness. 

As we are building now, so will our future be. 
I knew two sisters ; they were about the same age, 
and had had the same opportunities. They were 
brought up in the same atmosphere. They lived 
in a lovely house, and their father was rich. The 
world was very pleasant to them. One of the 
girls loved to be rich, and to have all she wanted, 
and she lived as if riches would never end, and 
so her life came to depend on riches; she chose 
the life that is very, very pleasant to those who 
can afford it. The other was glad to be rich, 
but she would not have felt it much if she had 
been poor. She loved to do things, and she pre- 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



pared for her life as if money had nothing at all 
to do with it. She ehose the life that may be 
very, very pleasant even lo those who are not 
rich. These two sisters grew up side by side, 
both of them happy, until one day something went 
wrong, something that their father could not pos- 
sibly haye helped, and he was rich no more. 
These two girls were suddenly poor, and I think 
it nearly broke the heart of one of them. Hut 
it mattered nothing to the other, for her hap- 
piness was set in a foundation more solid than 
gold. She had learned the great secret that the 
kingdom of heayen is w ithin us, and she won her 
way with high honor in the profession she had 
chosen. 

Now, we can liye in either of these ways. We 
can live so that a hundred things that may hap- 
pen Villi shatter our happiness and break our 
hearts: or we can live so that our peace is in an 
armor that no chance stroke can pierce, so that 
our happiness is based in things that endure, and 
not in circumstance, which to-day is and to- 
morrow is not. 

And this true happiness, this strength that will 
sustain us whatever may come, we can all pos- 
sess. I do not think there is any recipe for it 
that can be put into \\'ords, because the deepest 
language is far removed from feeling, and there 
are some things that can only be felt. But we 
know, every one of us, when our lives are at 
their best and when they are not. We know, 
every one of us, whether we are interesting our- 
selves in things that matter or in things that 
merely please. We know whether we are filling 
our minds with fine ideas and lovely thoughts, and 
trying to understand the world in which our lives 
must be spent. 

More than anything, it seems to me, a girl 
should have deep sympathy. ;\Iany times you 
must have heard it said that the hand that rocks 
the cradle rules the world, and nothing truer ever 
has been said. It means that wdiile men make 
laws and machines and houses and ships, you 
are to be the makers of men. You are to build 
up the homes and hearts and minds of those who 
build up only smaller things. But woman is not 
only the ruler and the maker of rulers ; she is the 
comforter and sustainer. She bears the burden 
of the world's sorrow; she brings the world its 
great consolation. Whatever great work a man 
may do in the world, with all his votes and all his 
tools and all his talk, the best that a man can do 
is not to be compared with the be,st that a woman 
can do. When President Garfield was asked what 
he would be, he said, 'T shall be a man first of 
all. If I do not succeed in that I shall be noth- 
ing," 



399 

I cannot ask you to be men, but I can ask you 
to be something better. Be women. Do well the 
nK)st wonderful and beautiful work that any hu- 
man being can ever do— the building up of a 
home. That is the task that awaits you, that is 
the great contribution you can make to the hap- 
piness of the world in which we live, and to the 
future to which we are going. 

There is nothing that a king can do that is so 
great as this work of yours. There is nothing 
that a queen can do that is nobler than the mak- 
ing of a happy home. You are the queens of the 
earth, and in these years you are winning your 
kingdom. See that it is a fair kingdom, with 
nothing ill or mean, and see that the days you 
are living now are golden days, in which every 
hour, and every thought, shall build up the beau- 
tiful throne upon which you were born to reign. 
For here \voman must continue to rule, however 
far she may advance — as she is advancing — on 
the road that leads to her equality with man in 
the affairs of political government. 



WE WERE BOYS TOGETHER 



BY GEORGE P. MORRIS 



We were boys together. 

And never can forget 
The school-house on the heather, 

In childhood where we met — 
The humble home, to memory dear; 

Its sorrows and its joys; 
Where woke the transient smile or tear, 

A\'hen you and I were boys. 

We were youths together, 

And castles built in air; 
Your heart was like a feather, 

And mine weighed down with care. 
To you came wealth with manhood's prime. 

To me it brought alloys 
Foreshadow'd in the primrose time. 

When you and I were boys. 

We're old men together; 

The friends we loved of yore. 
With leaves of autumn weather, 

Are gone for evermore. 
How blest to age the impulse given— 

The hope time ne'er destroys— 
Which led our thoughts from earth to heaven, 

When you and I were boys! 



400 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



HONESTY 

"An honest man's the noblest work of God." 
This sentence was written by a famous EngHsh 
poet. Do you beHeve it? Do you fully under- 
stand it? Who wrote it? If it be true, then 
honesty must be a great and splendid quality. It 
must mean something more than financial honesty 
— something more than the avoidance of cheating 
and the paying of debts. 

Boys and girls, will you not carefully consider 
the meaning of the word "honesty" ? Think about 
it and try to recall all you have read about it — then 
consult your dictionary for the definition of the 
word. You will find in the definition such words 
as "sincerity," "honor," "uprightness," "integ- 
rity." Honesty means all that is expressed by 
these words, and more. Perhaps we might profit- 
aljly consider it along the following lines: 

First. The honest man or boy does not cheat. 
He pays all honest debts. He does not buy things 
unless he is sure he can pay for them. He prac- 
tices economy and works faithfully in order that 
he may cheat no one. 

Second. The honest man or boy does not de- 
ceive. The honest boy does n't make believe he 
is studying when he is not. He does n't give to 
his teacher some other boy's solution of a prob- 
lem pretending that it is his own. He does n't 
tell his parents by words or by actions that he is 
studying faithfully when he is loafing or playing 
truant. It is possible for him to deceive his 
teachers and his parents, but if he does he is only 
laying the foundation for habits of indolence and 
deception that will retard or prevent his success 
when he becomes a man. An honest man in busi- 
ness or professional life "does not deceive. He 
does not put ground gypsum in flour, or glucose 
in honey. He does n't put the largest strawber- 
ries on the top of the basket to conceal the green 
or decaying ones at the bottom. He does n't 
wear false plumage by preaching another's ser- 
mon or delivering another's speech as his own. 
He is true to himself and false to no man. 

Third. The honest boy is truthful. He neither 
tells a lie, nor acts a lie. He is upright in all 
his words and actions. He is not so mean as to 
impose on any one by a falsehood. He is above 
practicing a cheat in word or deed. Truth he 
values more than money and neither bribes nor 
threats can make him depart from it. 

Fourth. The honest boy has a conscience, and 
he follows this "inward light." That boy was 
honest who, when asked why he did not steal 
some pears (for nobody was there to see), said: 
"I was there to see myself, and I do not intend 
ever to see myself do a dishonest thing." 



Fifth. The honest boy does not need watching. 
He studies a little harder and behaves a little 
better when the teacher is absent from the room 
than when she is present. He does conscientious 
work whether the "boss" is present or absent. 
He puts "high quality" into his work. He not 
only remembers that "the gods see everywhere," 
but "he is there to see." Such a boy, when he 
goes away from home, will not forget the teach- 
ings of his mother. 

Sixth. The honest boy keeps his promise to 
himself as well as to others. He does n't deceive 
himself. If he does wrong, he does n't try to 
convince himself that he is doing right. If he 
resolves to do faithful work, he makes good his 
resolution. If he promises himself to take a cer- 
tain amount of exercise, or to do a stated amount 
of studying, he does it though it be not a task 
required by parent or teacher. Thus, by force of 
will, he learns to be honest with himself and at 
the same time he is learning the great lesson of 
self-control. Honesty is always right, and 
"honesty is the best policy." 



TRUTH 

When one would build a house to stand, 

He builds upon the solid rock. 
He takes the best at his command. 

He piles the granite, block on block. 
No soft, shale rock shall have a place 
In inner or in outer face. 
Well-tested rock shall polished be 
For lasting structure — don't you see? 

Build thou for time — on solid rock, 

Give thought and care, build broad and deep. 
Then tempest wild with rudest shock 

Shall harmlessly around thee sweep. 
With knowledge gained, and purpose grand, 
The ills of life thou canst command. 
From all their power thou shalt be free. 
Thy power the greater — don't you see? 

/. M. Morse. 



REBECCA'S AFTERTHOUGHT 

Yesterday, Rebecca Mason, 
In the parlor by herself. 

Broke a handsome china basin, 
Plac'd upon the mantel-shelf. 

Quite alarm'd, she thought of going 

Very quietly away. 
Not a single person knowing 

Of her being there that day. 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



But Rebecca recollected 

She was taught deceit to shun ; 
And the moment she reflected, 

Told her mother what was clone ; 

Who conuuended her behavior, 
Lov'd her Ijetter, and forgave her. 



THE TWO BATTLE-CRIES 

Some one has said that there are onlv two na- 
tions in the world, the good and the bad. 

Wherever you may travel you will always find 
some good people and some bad people. The 
good people are as different from the bad as white 
is different from black, as land is different from 
water. The ditterence between goodness and 
badness is as great as the difference between light 
and darkness. 

What is the difference between good and evil ? 
We are quite certain that life is a struggle be- 
tween these two things. We are sure that no 
man can live without becoming more good or 
more evil. But what are goodness and evil? 

Goodness is effort. Many of the great heroes 
of the world, and many of the men who have suc- 
ceeded in life, have been the children of poor 
people. They had little comfort in their homes, 
there was no provision made for their future, 
they had only themselves to depend upon. There- 
fore, instead of being idle, they bestirred them- 
selves, they struggled, they worked early and late, 
and made themselves victorious. In the same way 
it has fared with the human race as a whole. 

Among all the other creatures on the earth, 
there is no such struggle as we find in the human 
race. Animals and birds and fishes and insects 
follow the path of their instincts. They are the 
same to-day as they were when Homer sang, and 
the druids lived under English oaks. But man 
fights against his instincts; his march has ever 
been from darkness toward light, from ignorance 
toward knowledge, from cruelty toward kindness, 
from selfishness toward charity. Once he was 
like the animals. He knew nothing of right and 
wrong. To get something that belonged to an- 
other was not thought wrong, but clever ; to kill 
an enemy was natural. There could be no wrong, 
because there was no right. 

But gradually there dawned upon the growing 
mind of man the idea that some things were bet- 
ter than others. While killing was allowed, for 
instance, no one was safe. For common safety 
it was agreed that killing should be stopped. 
Then came the first law, the first step toward a 
conscience. Because men agreed that killing 



401 

should be stopped, the conscience of bad men told 
them that to kill was to do wrong. 

And ever since that first law, that first step 
toward a conscience, humanity has been making 
fresh efforts t(j advance. Thousands of years 
passed before the man who knew that it was 
wrong to kill learned that it was right to forgive 
his enemy. Every age has been a fresh effort, 
and with every fresh effort the human race has 
not only advanced farther from savagery, but has 
obtained clearer and wider views of the heaven 
in front of it. Goodness, to which humanity is 
journeying, is not a mark on the earth where we 
■shall one day come, and lie down and rest; it is 
infinity, it is God. 

Evil is surrender. The man who lives a bad 
life is the coward of the human race, the traitor 
to humanity. While the good man lives a life of 
eft'ort, the bad man lives a life of laziness — he 
slips out of the ranks of the marching army, he 
deserts from the glorious colors, he goes, back to 
herd among the swine. It is too much trouble to 
march, it is too hard to fight; he prefers to lie 
down in the ditch and let the world go past him. 
Every evil man weakens the army. The advance 
and the victory of goodness are delayed by every 
coward who deserts. 

It is one of the interesting and teaching truths 
of life that each one of us, the greatest and the 
humblest, has within him an inner voice which 
tells him when a thing is right or wrong. This 
conscience is a witness to the truth that after 
death we shall advance in spiritual worlds. It 
lifts us high above the animals. It makes us dif- 
ferent from everything else on the earth. It is a 
voice continually instructing us in secret, more 
wise than the voice of parent, schoolmaster, or 
governess. It is the voice of our good angel. 

Right and wrong ! How simple these words 
sound ! But think what they mean ! These words 
are the great battle-cries of the two forces locked 
in eternal battle. On the one side is the ad- 
vancing host crying "Right!" — on the other the 
host of darkness crying "Wrong !" The whole 
of life is summed up in those two words. To do 
right is to advance farther from barbarism and 
nearer to beauty. To do wrong is to retreat 
farther from God and to draw nearer to savagery 
and hideousness. Shall we do right or shall we 
do wrong? Shall we fight or desert? It is for 
each one to decide. The choice is left to us. 

It is, then, the tremendous difference between 
good people and bad people that makes the strug- 
gle of existence. Good people are always pull- 
ing the world forward ; bad people are always 
pulling the world back. Life is the contest be- 
tween these two. Nothing is more certain than 



402 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



this 

beginning of the world, has been going on be- 
tween the good and the bad. 

All the stories and plays in the world are built 
upon this fight between the soldiers of good and 
the soldiers of evil. If we think about the tales 
we have read we shall find that somehow or other 
in many of them there was this great contest 
going on between the good and the bad. ^Esop's 
fables are descriptions of these battles; Grimm's 
fairy tales are tales of the great fight. 

Let us make perfectly sure of this great matter, 
for unless we know what life really is how can 
we hope to do anything with it? A man can no 
more live successfully without some plan of life, 
than a sailor can reach a port without chart and 
compass and rudder. If you saw a woman busy 
with needle and thread, and asked her what she 
was making, how you would stare if she replied: 
'T don't know." But much more mad is he who 
does not know what he is making with his life. 

It is only the person who knows that life is a 
war between good and evil, who sees this truth 
staring him in the face when he looks on the 
world — it is only such a person who can learn to 
live the wise life, to know why he is living, to 
know what he is making. He is not drifting with 
the tide, he is not being blown about by every 
wind ; he is marching straight forward, in the 
broad daylight of knowledge, to a definite goal. 

Learn, then, at the beginning of your life, to 
know for certain that existence is a struggle be- 
tween good and evil. Let it be a thought con- 
stantly in your mind that the earth is a field of. 
conflict where the two nations are ever wrestling 
for victory. Life is nothing else. All the other 
matters are part of the struggle. Trade, pleas- 
ure, games, books, pictures, friendships, and jour- 
neys — evervthing is part of the great and eternal 
strife. Not one of us can live an hour, or do any 
action, without striking some blow for good or 
evil. Make sure of that in your mind. 

Life is a struggle between good and evil. 



vcrv kind to poor dumb animals : never cause 
them pain. If you take pleasure in hurting them, 
you are likely to become brutal and base. 

Never forget to be always gentle and attentive 
to old people; never interrupt when they are 
talking. Listen to what they tell you, and you 
will learn many things. If you have an aged 
father, a grandfather, or a sick uncle or aunt, 
remember not to disturb them by loud talking or 
rough play. Be careful of them, and tender to 
them. 

If anjr of you have a poor father or mother 
who has to get up early to go to work and earn 
your bread, think what a pleasure it would be to 
them to find that their little boy or girl has been 
out of bed before them on a cold winter morning, 
and has lighted a blazing fire, and made them a 
cup of tea. 

Think what a pleasure it will be to them if they 
are sick, if they are deaf or blind, to find a little 
boy or girl to cheer them, to read to them, or to 
lead them about. It is not only the comfort of 
having help ; it is the still greater comfort of 
knowing that they have a good son or a good 
daughter, who is anxious to help them, and who, 
they are sure, will be a joy and not a trouble to 
them by day and by night. 

Some time ago I heard of a brave and modest 
little boy — Hammond Darker was his name — only 
fourteen years of age, who had already saved at 
different times the lives of no less than four 
other boys, by plunging after them into the rough 
sea on the coast of Norfolk. 

This is what you can do, not perhaps by plung- 
ing into the stormy sea, but, at any rate, by sav- 
ing a companion, a brother, or sister from going 
wrong. You can do far more for them than any 
one else, because you are nearly always with 
them. Stand by and protect each other. Be 
truthful, manly, courageous, courteous, and un- 
selfish. Do not think that any of these things 
are too much for you to achieve. 



DEAN STANLEY'S ADVICE TO BOYS 
AND GIRLS 

Love honest work ; love to get knowledge ; never 
be ashamed to say your prayers morning and 
evening, it will help you to be good all through 
the day ; keep your promise ; do not listen to 
foolish stories; never tell a lie; never strike, hurt, 
or be rude to a woman or a girl, or to any one 
weaker or younger than yourselves. 

Be ready even to risk your own lives to save 
a friend, a companion, a brother, or a sister. Be 



ON ORDER 

Working without a plan is sailing without a 
compass. 

Working without method, like the pig's tail, 
goes all day and does nothing 

Without method little can be done to any good 
purpose. 

To him who does everything in its proper time 
one day is worth three. 

Order is heaven's first law. 

Let all things be done decently and in order. 

Order is the law of all intelligible e:-istence. 



LITTLE TALKS ON ALVNNKRS AND MORALS 



403 



TALKS ON COURTESY 



SAY YOUR PRAYLRS WITH ATTluNTION 

The wise chilil, when lie has awakened iVdni 
sleep and risen and dressed himself, will remem- 
ber him who kept him all the night in peace and 
safety : and kneelnis;' tlnwn with his hands and 
his heart lifted tei I leaven he will praise and 
thank that kind ^laker and preser\-er. So he 
will he in tune with all creation, for the hirds 
sing, the flowers lift their faces, the whole world 
refreshed sends uii grateful praise ti> the good 
God. Even in the winter-time the mhin sings; 
and whether the child live in a city where there 
are manv sparriiws, iir in the eiiuntr\' with all its 
feathered warhlers, he may often hear the hirds 
saying their prayers. 

Be quite sure that in the great chorus of praise 
which all creation is sending" up to the throne of 
God, that kind Father yvovdd miss the voice of 
one little chiM wdio haif forgotten him. It would 
be the greatest discourtesy if while he prayed a 
child were to think of other things, of his break- 
fast, or his games, or a treat promised to him, or 
any other matter wdiatsoever. If one were talk- 
ing to some one very dear, father or mother or 
favorite friend, he would not be thinking of other 
things and not of them. So the good child will 
say his prayers, remembering to whom he speaks : 
and afterward he will go to his daily tasks and 
pleasures with a sense of blessing. 

BE RESPECTFUL AND OBEDIENT TO 
FATHER .VND MOTHER 

This rule of courtesy has been made one of the 
commandments. \'ery few children will need to 
be told to love father and mother, yet there are 
children v.-ho have sometimes rebelled against 
the loving rule which is made for their good, 
and have in their own minds questioned the wds- 
dor.i of their loving parents. Do not such chil- 
dren know how much their parents have Irived 
them and suffered for them; how they have 
watched over their babyhood, worked for them 
so that they should have good food and clothing 
and pleasant surroundings, that they mi.ght re- 
ceive the blessing of education, that they might 
have little joys and little pleasures wdiich mean 
so much in the lives of children? 

Dear children, to-night, all over the world. 
fathers and mothers will be leaning over little 
children's beds, watching them with love, shelter- 
ing them from the cold winds anrl storms, hold- 
ing hands together above the little children's 



he;i(ls in a love that makes the nursery of every 
happy home a holy place. Sometimes it may be 
a little sick child, ami then there is such sorrow 
and care in the parents' breasts as you do not 
dream of. 

Wdien (_;od looks down on the dark earth from 
his heaven he sees nuUions and millions of little 
twinkling pioints of light in the nurseries of all 
the weirld. and he blesses them. Can you not 
belie\'e that he says. "There are the parents 
whose hearts feel us my heart feels for the 
children".^ It is not ijnly parents like yours, and 
}-our friends', but the Eskimiis in their huts, the 
negroes in torrid Africa, the Hindus in Asia — 
everywhere, everywdiere, parents will be whis- 
pering at night that so long as their little child 
is good and happv thev wdll accept any care and 
suffering for themselves. Thinking on this no 
child with any heart will be careless and dis- 
obedient toward his dear parents, but the right 
kind of children will he thoughtful, obedient, and 
loving, and thankful for all that parents have 
done and are doing for them. 

GIVE WAY TO ANOTHER WFIEN IT IS 
FOR THAT OTHER'S GOOD 

De,-\r children, in order to see the wisdom of this 
rule, you have only to think of what a nursery 
would' be where no one was ever willing to yield 
or give up things. If you will try to practise it 
you will find that though hard at first it becomes 
delightful in the end. as every .good habit becomes 
delightful and easv to practise, although at first 
it may be difficult. 

I wdll tell you about three children I know — 
two boys and a girl. The elder boy and the girl, 
wdio is the youngest of the three, are alike in 
disposition, being hasty, wanting things so much 
that they "make a great time" wdien they may 
not have them. The younger boy. wdio is much 
beloved by the other two. finds it easy to give 
up for their sake. I have seen this child, when 
his lirother or sister has wanted something of 
his, dear to himself, hesitate but a second, and 
then sav, wdth a brightness on his face. "Why, 
then, you may have it." 

But' since the constant acceptance of such un- 
selfishness would make the others selfish and 
grasjiing. at times the dear child is not allowed 
so to give up his treasures. I'.ut sometimes he is 
allowed to give things as an exercise for his own 
sweet charity and as an example to the others 



404 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



who will too commonlv fall to squabbling over 
things they covet. 

The child who is willing to give up is loved 
by his parents, his brothers and sisters, his play- 
mates, and his teachers. He turns all the world 
into friends, and is only to be checked in his 
lovely desire when, sometimes, it may not be for 
the good of others more selfish. 

BOYS, SHOW COURTESY TO YOUR 
SISTERS AND TO ALL WOMEN 

Dear children, there can be nothing more pain- 
ful than to see a little boy rough and rude to his 
sister, forgetful of politeness to his girl com- 
panions and schoolmates, or to his nurse, if he 
has one, or to his mother's women servants. I 
have known a child who in a fit of temper would 
lift his hand against his little sister, would kick 
his nurse and those who came to her aid, even 
with his boots on his feet. That, indeed, is an 
example for wise children to avoid as they would 
avoid that dreadful example sometimes seen in 
our streets of the child who, being told to do 
this or that, will fling himself down and, kicking 
as though he were all feet, and making the most 
frightful shrieks, will try to keep any one from 
lifting him up ! 

Remember, dear child, being a boy, that by 
all gentlemen those of the other sex are to be 
treated with gentleness and, when they deserve it, 
with reverence. Do not keep all vour tenderness 
for the mother you adore, or for her friends in 
the drawing-room who praise you and laugh at 
your sayings, but bring some of it into the daily 
life of the nursery, the schoolroom and the 
street. Give some of it to your little sister, even 
if she is sometimes troublesome and cross. Show 
it to your nurse if she does want you to go to 
bed at a moment when you are most deeply in- 
terested in a book, or if she calls you to meals 
when you are just laying your railway track. 
Be careful and tender with the little sister who 
is not so strong as you are. Watch over her. 
Be proud and fond of her. She will repay you 
by thinking you as fine as any hero of the story- 
books. The true politeness must be practised 
among everyday surroundings. I would not give 
a pin for the politeness which is all kept for 
mother and visitors. To be a g'entleman and act 
like one is in itself a great reward. 

GIRLS, DO NOT BE SPOILED BY COUR- 
TESIES SHOWN TO YOU 

Dear girls, it would be the greatest possible 
abuse of vour brothers' kindness and the kind no- 
tice taken of you by grown-up people if you were 



to become like spoiled beauties, vain, exacting, 
airy, and "bossy"; if you were to have too good 
an opinion of yourselves and claim as a right 
that courtesy which is given to you because po- 
lite boys and men respect your sex. The child 
who would be so would grow into the unloved 
girl and woman. If your looks, miss, are praised, 
do not let that make you vain. Look round on 
the world. Every flower in the garden is lovelier 
than you can hope to be in person, and it is by 
gentleness and virtue that you will shine all your 
life, even in that far-off day, which now you 
cannot believe in, when you will be old and gray. 
Do not be too fanciful and finicking in your 
way with your brothers. If sometimes their 
games are rougher than you like do not be a 
?\Iiss Languish, but join in them with heartiness. 
It is really a great privilege for a little girl to 
have the companionship of good boys. She will 
gain from them something of courage, endurance 
of pain, and frankness, while they will learn 
from her to soften their ruder ways with gentle- 
ness and pity. If she were to be a wet blanket 
on their joy she would be disliked by them, no 
matter how pretty were her curls or how fine 
her frocks. She must be a little wholesome 
bright presence and influence in her brothers' and 
other boy playmates' lives. It has been my lot 
sometimes to see sad examples of spoiled little 
girls grown up. You will see them accept a seat 
from a gentleman in a street-car without so much 
as "Thank you." You will see them make them- 
selves even more distasteful to their own sex. 
Have you seen them push and pull at a crowded 
sale? or wear a great hat in the theater, which 
wrongs the ticket-holders behind them? But I 
will not multiply these painful examples, feeling 
assured that the child who takes to heart this 
little lesson will never desire to follow them. 

BEHAVIOR TOWARD THE SICK, THE 
OLD, AND THE AFELICTED 

Persons who are sick and old are often unable 
to bear the riotous merriment of children, and 
sometimes you may have been led to think them 
cross and a trouble. But the wise child will 
realize that in suffering, or in the great fatigue 
of old age, people have as much as they can 
bear, and will try not to add to that suffering 
and fatigue. He will play quietly when any one 
is ill in the house. When he is out of doors he 
will pity the poor blind. If he sees a blind man 
coming, tapping his stick, along a crowded thor- 
oughfare, he will make way for him, not for fear 
of the stick being laid upon him, though that 
might be if the blind man were of a hasty tem- 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



per, but out of pity for liis affliction. So, too, if 
a sound and healthy boy sliould see any one on 
crutches, or with any lameness, he will not mimic 
such a person, as a rude child might, but he will 
consider within himself humbly that he has not 
deserved to be otherwise than that person, and 
he will look upon him with a kind and pitying 
eye because a cripple can ne\'er run or play as 
he himself can. 

And if it should chance to him to render such 
a person any little service without being officious 
the wise and kind boy will do so, remembering, 
however, that afflicted persons often do not like 
to ha\'e their mfirmities noticed, even when the 
notice is prompted by the kindest feeling. In a 
public con\-eyance he will be eager to give up 
his place to an old or sickly person, or to a lady. 
And if it should chance to him to render a ser- 
vice to one of the poor little ones of Christ, as 
we may well call the afflicted, such as to lead a 
blind person over a crossing, he may well think 
upon the blessed St. Christopher, who, having 
taken it upon himself to use his great strength 
for the purpose of carrying travelers across a 
violent stream for Christ's sake, presently had it 
happen to him that he carried the Light of the 
World himself. 

DESIRE THAT OTHERS BE SERVED 
BEFORE YOURSELF 

It was once my lot to know a little girl who, 
being admitted to her parents' dinner-table, 
shocked all there bv calling out to her mother 
when the pudding was served: "Me first, mam- 
mie ; me first!" That little girl had certainly 
never learned the pleasantness that lies in giving 
way to others ; for there is a pure pleasantness 
in it, although the grecdv child may not have 
learned it. What a sight it would be if grown-up 
persons were to act in such a manner, and what 
a very ugly world it would be in which every 
one was pushing and striving one before the 
other. 

How sweet to see in the home or the school- 
room the rosy, dimpled, smiling faces full of 
eager courtesy, one to another ! You should de- 
sire to be served last rather than first; but on 
the other hand, you should accept your food in 
the order in which it is given to you, because it 
would be too much a show of your own virtue, as 
well as against all good manners, to protest 
against the will of your elders in such matters. 
The holiest of all books gives among its promises 
that the first shall be last and the last first in 
the kingdom of heaven, wdiich means that the 
humble and the lowly shall be honored and the 
selfish and the proud shall be humbled. 



405 

BE KIND AND HELPFUL TO THOSE WHO 
FAIL WHERE YOU SUCCEED 

It will sometimes happen that one child is 
cleverer than another, takes prizes where the other 
fails, understands where another is dull. And 
this should no more puff him up than it should 
that his nose is straight while another's is 
crooked. It may be that the seemingly dull child 
is only slow, and may have something far finer 
in his brains than the one to whom learning 
comes easy. The little brook is bright and chat- 
ters on its way, where the great river moves 
slowly. It takes a longer time for a rose to come 
to perfection than it takes a daisy. 

St. Thomas Aquinas, the "Angelical Doctor," 
was called by his fellow-students the "Dumb 
Ox," because of his silence, which they took for 
dulness. One wonders how many bright and 
clever youths were beside him in the school who 
made no more mark in the world than one of a 
million leaves on the trees, while he is remem- 
bered and studied to all time. 

That "dull" child whom you know may yet 
put you to shame. And if it were not to be so, 
he may have a nature, a heart, a soul, far higher 
than yours; for God gives to every one gifts as 
God himself sees best. Therefore do not go 
puffed out like a peacock if you hear yourself 
praised as cleverer than others. But rather, if 
you can do it, forbear sometimes to pass the one 
who is always lagging behind. Help him on his 
road. Try to make him understand as you do. 
Often it is a very little thing that causes the 
dulness of understanding. Sometimes forget to 
cover yourself with glory, but rather help another 
to be praised; and surely, surely, you will have 
such joy in your own heart that it will be an 
overflowing reward. 

KEEP QUIET AT THE PROPER TIMES 

It is natural to the healthy child to be noisy, to 
sing and shout at his play, to leap about, to run, 
to dance, to ask questions. But at the proper 
times the well-behaved child will keep from 
doing all these natural things for the sake of 
others. When he is in the fields, or by the sea, 
he will romp and shout as he pleases. But while 
he is in the house he will make himself a rule of 
quietness for the sake of others, for the noise of 
children in a room often causes annoyance, if 
not headache, to parents and teachers. The wise 
child will not have noisy games indoors. He will 
soften his voice. He will play quietly with the 
toys and games his dear friends have given him 
for just such a quiet amusement. He will not 
make older heads dizzy by an endless whirl of 



406 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



questions. He will read a tale, or learn his les- 
sons in quietness. There can be nothing sweeter 
than to see a restless and noisy child making 
himself gentle for the good of others; and such 
conduct on his part will make him greatly be- 
loved and give him more joy in the end than if 
he had followed his natural bent without think- 
ing of the comfort of others. 

SPEAK ONLY AT THE PROPER TIMES 

This little rule calls for self-denial on the part 
of the child who is naturally talkative. But he 
has only to think what a home with several chil- 
dren in it would be if they all talked at once, in 
order to see that this rule is needed. 

A child may sometimes think himself very wise, 
and be full of opinions about every subject in 
the world. I once knew a child who, being 
brought to lunch with his dear godmother and 
some other grown persons, wanted so much to be 
the chief speaker that his cries of "Listen to me! 
Listen to me I" spoiled the conversation of the 
others. Perhaps he thought that what he had 
to say was much finer than what was being said ; 
at any rate, he was not a wise child. Those who 
really desire to hear what a child has to sa)', in 
company, will ask for it. 

The child's intelligence will be shown by his 
interest in listening and the brightness of his 
glances. And when such a child is asked to 
speak, what he says will be better worth hearing 
than the chatter of one who talks for the pleas- 
ure of hearing himself. I have even known chil- 
dren who, rather than keep silent, would talk 
mere nonsense. How much better is a child^ 
such a one as I know — who will spend an hour, 
two hours, with his elders, scarcely speaking, and 
then perhaps will say something that shows how 
well he has been listening and thinking while 
keeping so silent. 

DO NOT REPEAT THINGS YOU HAVE 
OVERHEARD 

I am not sure but this is a virtue, or a rule 
of wisdom, rather than of courtesy. However, 
since it has come into these pages, I shall let it 
keep its place here. Sometimes it may happen 
that a child, being in the company of grown-up 
persons, may overhear things not intended for 
him, the telling of which might lead to very evil 
consequences. There is a certain precious qual- 
ity which we call honor, and which is nearly the 
same thing as conscience. It is honor or con- 
science that uplifts human nature and gives it 
nobleness and dignity. Without this precious 
quality poor human nature is lower than the 



beasts that are always faithful and honest to 
those they love. 

When a child has overheard something not 
meant for his ears, and is tempted to tell it, he 
should listen to that quiet voice of honor which 
bids him keep silent. He should try to be as if 
he had not heard what he was not intended to 
hear. He will so prove himself a gentle and 
trustworthy child, one worthy to belong to the 
chivalry of the young Army of Christ, whom an 
old writer calls so beautifully "the first true 
gentleman." 

DO NOT LAUGH AT THE DEEECTS OR 
EAULTS OF OTHERS 

The merriment of children ought to be a beau- 
tiful thing arising out of the happiness of inno- 
cent hearts. But there may be an evil and cruel 
merriment which mocks at defects of body or 
mind in another. It would be better that a child 
should never laugh than that his laughter should 
be like this. 

In the mind of a child mockery should have 
no part. Defects or faults in another ought not 
to move him to that kind of amusement which 
places him on the level of a monkey, but ought 
to move him to such gentleness and sorrow that 
there is nothing he would not do to avoid show- 
ing knowledge of such things if he may not heal 
them. He ought not to exalt himself because to 
himself he seems different, since he may not see 
himself with a true eye, and because also the one 
whose faults and defects are so large in his sight 
may seem very different in the sight of God. 

Of all sins and failings that can belong to 
children the worst is cruelty, being altogether 
evil. Therefore, dear children, you will not 
laugh at the defects of another, but will rather 
ask yourselves if there may not be defects in you 
which may render you an object of pity to others. 

BE WILLING IN SERVING OTHERS 

It ought to be the delight of a child to serve 
others and especially those older than himself. 
Let him consider by what years of service on the 
part of others he has been brought to his pres- 
ent age, and how any failure in that service 
might have been the cause in him of weakness 
and illness, and he will see how much service he 
in return owes to others. 

It is most sweet indeed to render services to 
those we love; but the wise child will not pause 
at that. He will render little services to those 
whom he does not love, and doing so he will be 
surprised to learn what joy lies in the doing, and 
how he may win people from regarding him with 



408 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



ill favor to loving him instead. He will render 
little services modestly, not doing them in a med- 
dling way where they are not needed. He will 
hand a chair : he will open a door ; he will delight 
in helping where help is needful; he will not 
think only of himself and his own joy; he will 
leave his book or his game to render little ser- 
vices, and will not do it with a discontented 



manner or spirit. He will remember that the 
King of all children was subject to his parents 
while on earth ; and he will think upon that 
house at Nazareth where was never sourness or 
unwillingness, but always a readiness to serve, 
on the part of him who has made service so 
glorious, leaving to the world a divine example of 
it for young and old to follow. 



THE VALUE OF COURTESY* 



BY WILLI.\M J. SHEARER 



In many otherwise finely trained and developed 
characters, the sturdy traits of which we thor- 
oughly respect, we find lacking a most important 
quality. We may honor such people for their 
integrity and truthfulness, their industry and per- 
severance, their accuracy in details, their energy 
and foresight. Yet when they deal with others 
most of them do not succeed well, because their 
manner is harsh and rude. There is no gracious- 
ness in their bearing, no geniality in their greet- 
ing. Their speech is curt and often offensive. In 
short, courtesy is lacking; they "have no man- 
ners." 

This side of character and conduct is one that 
should never be neglected. It is the part of 
benevolence and kindness to make all intercourse 
with others as pleasant as possible. No right- 
minded person will willingly add to the hateful- 
ness and misery that already exist in the world. 
Yet this is what many are guilty of when they 
say or do things that hurt the feelings of others, 
or when the)' fail to exhibit a kindly interest in 
others' welfare. 

There is a way of performing every action 
which makes it of much greater worth. A ser- 
vice rendered in a churlish manner always carries 
with it a sting to the recipient. A condescending 
manner in the rich or influential person tovi'ard 
his inferior is deservedly resented. To be gruff 
and surly is not a mark of honesty. It simply 
indicates a boorish ill breeding. No self-respect- 
ing person will be otherwise than courteous to all 
whom he meets. He will be neither insolent nor 
cringing to his superiors. He will not be over- 
familiar with his equals. He will not be conde- 
scending or contemptuous toward his inferiors. 
To do any of these things would be to proclaim 
his own lack of self-respect, and to show a serious 
mental and moral defect. "Want of manners is 
a want of sense," wrote Alexander Pope ; and 

*From "Morals and Manners." Published by the Mac- 
millan Company, New York. 



every observer of men and of the effects of their 
actions will agree with him. 

MANNER AN INDICATION OF 
CHARACTER 

One of the most trustworthy tests of character 
is manner. Without knowing a person, without 
even speaking to him, we may pretty fairly esti- 
mate his qualities and moral development by 
watching his intercourse with others. Kindness 
and sympathy cannot help revealing their pres- 
ence; heartiness, manliness, uprightness, honesty, 
may be discovered in his bearing if present in his 
nature. 

Manner is the outward sign of the soul's na- 
ture. It is always unconsciously betraying our 
deficiencies or revealing our better traits. We 
cannot get away from it. We cannot falsify or 
pretend to be what we are not, for the deceitful- 
ness is also revealed in our manner. The keen 
observer will detect the sham, and recognize the 
real qualities beneath the exterior. 

Courtesy is not something artificial. It springs 
from the heart. It is an expression of thought- 
fulness for others. It is doing to them as we 
would be done by. At its foundation he the great 
moral qualities of kindness and self-respect. 

COURTESY A REEINING INFLUENCE 

Nothing will so refine the character as the 
practice of courtesy. Like mercy, "it blesseth 
him that gives and him that takes." It has a re- 
flex action on one's own mind, banishing there- 
from coarseness and rudeness. It implants there 
a delicacy of feeling and a sensitive sympathy 
that will find expression in beautiful deeds, in at- 
tentions that ease the way for others, in the doing 
of "little kindnesses that most leave undone or 
despise,'' in tolerance and forbearance. Who- 
ever aims to be truly courteous will have con- 



i.rrn.K talks on manners and morals 



409 



Stantly before him a luily ideal nl' ennduet, a 
standard of perleelion tliat cannot lu-lii Imt lift 
him in his attempt to attain to it. 

Nothing', either, will alTord so much prdleelinn 
as conrtesy. No one can insult a |ierfectl\- cour- 
teous person. Rudeness \anislies from his pres- 
ence. "She is such a l,id\-," said a little girl. 
"How do you know?" asked her nicither. "Why, 
she makes you feel ymi just hax'e to he pulite tn 
her." was the answer. .\ hetter test of courtesy 
can scarcely he found than the instinctix'e recog- 
nition of it. and the in\\iluntar\- responsi\'e po- 
liteness in return. 

THE OUTWARD I-.XrRESSlON OF 
COURTI':SY 

Planners, tiie outward exi)ression (A courtesy, 
are sometimes called the "nhnor morals"; yet 
such is their importance in dail\- life that we 
cannot class them as minor matters. The word 
manners refers to the specific acts of daily life. 
It deals with small things as well as great. It 
implies obedience or disobedience to the proprie- 
ties as regulated by custom. 

Good manners are rooted in courtesy, w hicb we 
haye seen is an essential element in a fine char- 
acter. So desiralde are good manners, so pleas- 
ing to others, and so condiicne to success, that 
those of defectiye and eyen thoroughly bad char- 
acters striye to imitate them in order to pass 
among worthy people and to keep a place in so- 
ciety. But manners that are niereh' put on, like 
fine clothes for special occasions, sluiuld not lie 
classed as really good manners. Though they 
may make intercourse easier at the time, they are 
morally \yorthless. 

^Manners are the bodily expression of our in- 
bred delicacy or coarseness, our griod breeding or 
our vulgarity, our truth or our deceit. Good 
manners are realh- right haljits of mind and bod}-, 
working harmoniousl)'. ddiey are far more at- 
tractive than mere beauty. Says Junerson : ",A 
beautiful form is better than a beautiful face: a 
beautiful behavior is better than a beautiful form; 
it gives a higher pleasure than statuary or pic- 
tures; it is the finest of the fine arts." 

IMPORTANCE OF SOCIAL USAGES 

Since men must live together in society, certain 
usages intended to make intercourse easier be- 
come fixed in each nation. These form the con- 
ventional social code. However capricious these 
laws may seem, they are, in most cases, based on 
reason and common sense. They are for the 
good of all. They systematically regulate daily 



lifi 



e, oilmg ihe machinery and preventing much 
triction and confusion. 

In our everyd.-iy life and our constant contact 
"lib others, m.amuTS arc more to us than the 
statutes of the government; for the kiw but sel- 
dom touches us, while manners are all-pervading. 
b,very where they are smoothing the way and les- 
sening the (lifiiculties of life if they are good; 
everywhere they are adding to its troubles and 
annoA-aiices if they are had. A pleasant, grace- 
ful manner gives pleasure to ourselves and to 
others: it adds greatly to human comfort, 

Ihe value of good manners can scarcely be 
overestimated. In the family, where people, 
often of opposite natures, come into close contact, 
and where familiarity removes restraint, good 
manners are the only protection against quarrels. 
Life IS far more agreeable if all are considerate, 
and obe}' the forms of politeness in their actions 
and speech. Peace, serenity, and restfulness 
should pre\'ail in e\-ery home. The gentle man- 
ners that help to maintain such an atmosphere 
are well worth the self-restraint tliey will im- 
pose on our irritability and selfishness. 

In society, goo.l manners, a beautiful way of 
]ierforniing common duties, are the passport to 
all hearts. Brightness and gracefulness, cheer- 
fulness and good will are essential in all social 
intercourse. The presence or absence of these 
(pialities depends on whether or not we obey the 
rules that the social code has laid down for our 
guidance. 

Tact and grace of manner will carry us much 
farther than talent or information. This tact and 
grace are generally nothing more than the forget- 
fulness of self and the expression of a kindly in- 
terest in others, a sympathy for them, a desire to 
see them happy. Yet in this forgetfulness of 
self the social leader gams the greatest success. 

Gentle manners bring to their possessor an in- 
fluence which, though quietly exerted, is a power 
for usefulness in the \v':irld. In husmcss all 
transactions are helped by politeness. Many fail 
in life because their manner does not make a good 
impression : because their curtness and lack of 
good breeding repel others. 

Dr. AA'eir :\litehell ranks lack of manners next 
to lack of energy as a cause of failure, and says: 
"Good manners, tact, patience: these character- 
istics often assist men to win who are really in- 
ferior to some who, for want of these quahties, 
miss the place they would otherwise attain." 

EVILS OF RUDENESS 

Society has fixed numerous forms to be ob- 
served which many affect to despise as being 



410 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



without meaning or reason. Yet this regulation 
of apparently trifling matters is a great con- 
venience in daily life, and really makes our path 
much easier and pleasanter. It is foolish to de- 
spise and defy these conventional rules. We 
gain nothing by so doing. We lose much in the 
good opinion of others. We merely exhibit some 
unpleasant qualities in ourselves. 

Some ways of being rude do no real harm to 
any one but the culprit. They may be violations 
of the ordinary conventional rules of conduct, yet 
they show a disagreeable, conceited and contrary 
spirit, or else ignorance. For instance, no one 
who respects himself will wish to make himself 
unpleasantly conspicuous by keeping his hat on 
where he should take it off, by remaining seated 
when he should rise, by lounging in company, by 
failing to greet others politely. These things do 
not injure others, though thev offend their sense 
of propriety. They do reveal one's own lack of 
self-respect, in itself a serious moral defect, and 
one which should be carefully trained out of the 
character. 

A want of that outward expression of char- 
acter that we call manners may occasionally be 
due to ignorance ; but in most cases it springs 
from pure selfishness. The rude person is so 
engrossed in himself and his own affairs that he 
forgets others, their interests, their prejudices, 
their likings. 

In many cases, too, laziness unites with its 
sister vice of selfishness. Thus some people are 
guilty of discourtesy because they are simply too 
lazy to do the right and kindly thing, or to learn 
or practice a proper and pleasing behavior. 
Thoughtlessness, laziness, selfishness, unkindness, 
conceit, ignorance — surely this is not a pleasing 
list of qualities ; yet these are what the rude, im- 
polite person reveals as inherent in his character. 

Sometimes we see a rude person who prides 
himself on his bluntness and straightforwardness, 
who defies politeness in order to "say what he 
thinks." The occasions in daily life are very 
rare when this sort of rudeness is not really in- 
solence, springing from self-conceit and a desire 
to wound others. It is a cause of much pain at 
home and in society. 

Says Bishop Huntington : "Speaking your 
mind is well enough, provided you are sure your 



mind is justified in speaking, is fit to speak, or 
can speak amicably and to the purpose at that 
moment and in that place. Rudeness is not to be 
condoned on a plea of sincerity, nor audacity on 
a plea of courage." 

HOW TO yVCQUIRE OOOD MANNERS 

Good manners, like any other accomplishment, 
are acquired by study, by observation, by imita- 
tion of the best models, by steady practice. The 
fine spirit of courtesy is caught largely from 
association with those whose ideals are noble. 
Dr. Watson sa"\'s : "Just as we live in the atmos- 
phere of nobility, where people are generous and 
chivalrous, and charitable and reverent, shall we 
learn the habit of faultless manners, and acquire 
the mind which inspires every word and deed 
with grace." 

If such inspiration is lacking in ottr environ- 
ment we can alwavs find it held before us in the 
great works of literature, the storehouse of ideals, 
and can strive to make our lives measure up to 
the standards presented to us. By study and 
care defects may be overcome and deficiencies 
corrected. Determination, a thoroughly kindly 
spirit, and a love of the right, will make polite- 
ness habitual. 

Happy are those whose natural endowment and 
early training have made them courteous in 
spirit, delicate in tact, refined in taste, composed 
in manner; whose behavior is always appropriate, 
whose words and deeds in daily life add to the 
pleasure of themselves and others. 

To have the essentials of good breeding it is 
not necessary that one should spring from a 
wealthy family or one of high rank. The hardest- 
working man or woman may possess the great 
traits that are fundamental in the character of 
the true gentleman or lady. The bodily graces 
that mark the external manners, and that, of 
course, depend upon practice for their perfection, 
are beautiful and desirable. Yet they are not so 
important as the qualities of truthfulness, of cour- 
age, of self-control, of gentleness, of forbear- 
ance, of kindliness and consideration for others. 
Those who have these qualities may enter any 
society unabashed; they may stand, as did Frank- 
lin, before kings, and be revered as he was by 
nobles and princes. 



FUN* 



The word "fun" as it is used by young people, stand, it means any kind of "a good time." Cer- 

includes a great deal. So far as I can under- tainly a good play is called fun. 

.T- .'T-.t- t \' „ p „„i ■• u,, r r V „-.tf ^ shall here use the word fun in its stricter 

T-rom Ethics for \ oung Tenple. by c. C Everett. . 

Published by Ginn & Company. Boston. meaning. Fun, in this narrower sense, refers to 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



"'d'haf is fiiiuiy." The word "funny" is itself 
used in a very loose way. In common s|)eecli 
Ivhatever is surprising is sometimes called funny ; 
sometimes even if it is something sad. 

Properly speaking, only that is funny which is 
laughable. I wish then to speak in this chapter 
of what may be found comical hv one or anothef, 
4nd of what is done or said for the sake of raising 
a laugh. 

We may often find in kindly and innocent mirth 
both pleasure and refreshment. The opposite of 
mirth is seriousness. One who has no sense of 
fun takes everything seriously. It is not well for 
any one to be serious all the time. For one who 
is so the strain of life is often too hard. 

President Lincoln was very fond of a funny 
story. He felt the strain and the burden of the 
war so strongly that, if it had not been for this 
relief, he would have broken down long before 
the war was over. 

It is a great thing to be able to see the ludi- 
crous side of one's own mishaps or failures. What 
one person will grieve o\'er, another will carry 
off with a laugh. One may make a mistake, for 
instance, or meet with an accident which is not 
very severe, and be mortified beyond measure. 
Another will see the funny side of it, and find 
only amusement. A person who can never see 
the funny side of such mishaps, goes through life 
as if he were riding in a carriage without springs. 
Every little inequality makes a bump. 

In the same way one may see the ludicrous 
side of the troublesome blunders of others. I 
know a lady who had a very stupid gardener. 
She wondered why the bulbs that he had set out 
did not come up. At last she dug down to see 
what had happened. She found them all planted 
upside down. Of course she did not like it; but 
she amused herself with the absurdity of the 
thing, imagining them at some future day sprout- 
ing up in China to the wonder of the natives. 

While fun is in itself a very good thing, it 
may, like almost anything else that is good, be 
made a very bad thing. 

It may be made a bad thing in two ways. 

In the first place, it is bad when there is too 
much of it. 

While it is not well to take all things seriously, 
it is worse to take nothing seriously. The great 
business of life is serious, and one who finds 
only fun in everything keeps himself outside the 
reality of life. He is like a bit of thistle-down 
which floats about in the wind, while it has no 
real connection with anything. 

In the second place, fun may become a bad 
thing, because it is not of the right kind. 



411 

A person may be judged pretty fairly by what 
he admires. The object of his admiration shows 
the kmd ,T person he would like to be. A person 
may be judged about as truly by what he finds 
funny as by what he admires. 

One kind of fun which is wrong is that which 
gives pain to others, or which makes sport of 
the misfortunes of others. 

There is hardly anything so painful or unfor- 
tunate that some will not be found who will laugh 
at It. The savages were sometimes in the habit 
of tormenting their captives. The tortures that 
these underwent were to them an occasion of 
mirth. Boys sometimes torment insects or ani- 
mals because their struggles seem to them funny. 

If we were without the feeling of sympathy, 
almost any weakness or suffering might seem 
comical. Thus to some the infirmities of age, or 
any deformity in the person of another, seem fit 
objects of ridicule. 

In all such cases a feeling of sympathy would 
change the mirth into pity, or a friendly and 
helpful interest. 

It would do this in two ways. In the first 
place we should feel so sorry for the persons 
afflicted that we should not feel like laughing at 
them ; and in the second place, we should know 
that our ridicule, if they should be aware of it, 
would add to their pain. 

A kind sympathy would therefore make it im- 
possible to laugh at the infirmities or misfortunes 
of others. Those who do this show themselves 
unfeeling and cruel. They put themselves on the 
level of the savages. 

The same kindly feeling would forbid jests that 
would in any way give pain to others. The idea 
of wit which some people have is to say sharp 
things to another, perhaps to twit him with some- 
thing of which it is supposed he would be 
ashamed. 

A person of go'od feeling would never find 
sport in what gives another pain. 

I have read a story of a youth, who, while 
walking out with his tutor, saw a pair of shoes 
that a poor laborer had left under a hedge while 
he was busied with his work. "What fun it 
would be," exclaimed the young man, "to hide 
these shoes, and then to conceal ourselves behind 
the hedge, and see the man's surprise and excite- 
ment when he cannot find them." "I will tell 
you what would be better sport," said the tutor; 
"put a piece of money into one of the shoes, and 
then hide and watch his surprise when be finds 
it." This the young man did: and the joy and 
wonder of the poor laborer when he found the 
money in his shoe was as good fun as he wanted. 



412 



LITTLE TALKS ON MANNERS AND MORALS 



It is much better sport to plan pleasant sur- 
prises for people than to prepare unpleasant ones. 

While we should not make jests that will give 
another pain, we should, on the other hand, not 
be too sensitive at jokes that are played on us. 

Some people are very much annoyed, or per- 
haps lose their temper if they are laughed at. 
It very often happens that those that are most 
ready to laugh at others are the most displeased 
when the laugh is against them. 

Such sensitiveness is very weak; and a person 
who is so weak makes sometimes an unpleasant 
companion. We all laugh at one another some- 
times in a friendly way, and one who is never 
willing to be the object of such kindly mirth may 
interrupt the pleasure of his companions. 

You should try not to be a person in regard to 
whom your companions will always feel obliged 
to consider at every turn, whether vour sensitive 
feelings are likely to be hurt. "One must take 
as zvcll as give." is a good motto for the rough 
and tumble sport and business of the world; just 
as "One must giz'e as zcell as take." is a good 
motto, so far as the pleasures of life are con- 
cerned. 



Another kind of joke which is wrong is that 
which is filthy and indecent. It seems to some 
persons a great stroke of wit to say something 
which would offend natural modesty. There is no 
kind of wit which is so cheap, and no kind of 
which anybody who would be in the true sense 
of the word a gentleman should be so ashamed. 

Another kind of joke which a right feeling 
would avoid, is that aimed at what is to others 
an object of reverence. To some, profanity 
seems witty as well as manly. This is also a 
very cheap kind of joke which needs no wit 
for its making. It also shows low and unmanly 
tastes. 

We find, then, three kinds of jest which a right 
feeling person will avoid: the unkind, the inde- 
cent, and the profane. 

The play of wit and humor is thus very much 
like other play. It is one of the pleasant and 
helpful things in life. Like other play, it must 
be kindly, good-tempered, and pure. Like other 
play, it must not make up the whole of life. 
Rightly used, it may be one of the best helps in 
bearing the burden and doing the work of the 
world. 



HOW ALCOHOL INJURES LIFE 



Alcohol, which is made by the fermentation of 
sugar by the yeast-plant, forms part of the daily 
diet of many people, and is so used in vast quanti- 
ties over almost the entire world. 

THE GREAT COST OF ALCOHOL 

In this country people spend hundreds of mil- 
lions of dollars every year on alcoholic drinks. 
Let us suppose for a moment that these do no 
harm to any one, but that all this money is spent 
on what is neither good nor bad. Then think of 
another thing: if we chose to spend on building 
better public institutions, better schools and 
homes, improving life in many ways for men, 
women, and children — if we spent for such pur- 
poses the money we now spend on drink, who 
could tell how much good would thereby be done? 

But the spending of such a huge sum on drink 
does not mean merely the loss of so much mone)'. 
If we took it all and threw it into the sea every 
year, we should be a thousand times better off. 
As it is, we buy with that money disease and 
death, poverty, crime, insanity, and cruelty to 
wives and chililren in terrible forms. 

Wealth is either life or what serves life, and 
"illth," as John Ruskin calls the opposite of 



wealth, is what injures life. But men take the 
land, and the water, and the air, and the sun- 
shine, which ought to be real wealth, because 
they serve and build up life — men take these and 
with them grow grapes, and barley, and rye, and 
other fruits of the ground that of themselves are 
most useful to us, and then they turn them into 
horrible things, so that we grow death where we 
should be growing life, and our deadly crop never 
fails. 

ALCOHOL A POISON 

Whatever else it is, alcohol is a poison, and it 
is true of every living creature that anything 
which is poisonous is more injurious to the crea- 
ture when young than when grown up. That is 
not because the creature is smaller, and not be- 
cause it is growing or getting bigger, but because 
it is developing^-that is, gradually coming to its 
completion or, as we say, perfection. Developing, 
then, is something very different from mere grow- 
ing. y\nything that is developing is delicate, and 
if we have the least idea of what is meant by the 
word "miracle" we shall see what a miraculous — 
that is wonderful — thing development is. 

Now every one who knovVs anything about al- 



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414 



LITTLE TALKS ON MAxNNERS AND MORALS 



cohol knows that it is, as we Fiave said, a poison. 
There is no form of life, animal or vegetable, 
that alcohol will not destroy. It should never be 
given to young children, except as medicine (vou 
know that many poisons, rightly treated, are used 
as medicines), and everything possible should be 
done to keep growing youths from using it in the 
tempting form of drink. If from childhood to 
the age of manhood and womanhood its use in 
that form can once be stopped, then we may hope 
for a generation of men and women free from 
the harm, the dreadful curse, of its abuse. 

A CAUSE OF DISEASE 

Physicians tell us that many diseases of chil- 
dren come as the effects of alcohol, either through 
parents thereby diseased and weakened, or by 
exposure of children to disease in the haunts of 
its victims. One of the most deadly of all dis- 
eases is that form of tuberculosis which is com- 
monly called consumption. It causes more deaths 
than anv other one disease, yet "nothing like so 
many deaths as alcohol." Consumption is due to 
microbes, and these spread from one person to 
another, so that the disease is "catching." It 
used to be supposed that children did not suffer 
much from consumption, but now we know that 
they do. In many countries there is a terrible 
amount of the disease among very young children, 
in whom it may be seen at any time after the 
first year. How important, then, that infants and 
children of all ages should be guarded against 
exposure in any atmosphere where the germs of 
this disease abound ! 

It is still supposed by ignorant persons that 
alcohol tends to prevent consumption, but the 
very reverse is true. Nothing will make the soil 
readier for the deadly seed to grow in than its 
preparation by the abuse of alcohol. In France, 
we are told, it has been proved that wherever 
the amount of alcohol drunk is high, the amount 
of consumption is high, and where the drinking 
of alcohol is less, the cases of consumption are 
fewer. And if this is the condition in France we 
mav be sure that the same condition exists in 
other countries, our own included. What is true 



of consumption is equally true of other deadly 
diseases as affected by the improper use of 
alcohol. 

What alcohol thus does to destroy life and 
health in the body, that it also does, and more, 
for destroying health, reason, and strength in 
the mind, causing loss of will-power, self-control, 
self-respect — in a word, loss of power to use the 
faculties of the mind as man was made to use 
them. Once destroyed i-n this way, it is impos- 
sible that such power should ever be fully recov- 
ered. On this account we think it greatly to be 
desired that by and by — the sooner the better — ■ 
the time should come when not only children and 
youth, but grown people as well, will no longer 
be victims of the many ills due to alcohol, because 
alcohol will cease to be used in the form of 
drink. 

A PLEA FOR TOTAL ABSTINENCE 

We believe in total abstinence ; we regard the 
use of liquor as a beverage as an unnecessary 
habit, as an expensive habit, as a harmful habit, 
and as a dangerous habit. 

Intoxicating liquor is not necessary to the 
health of the body. This should be a self-evident 
proposition, needing no proof to support it. Any 
habit is expensive that gives no sufficient return 
for the money spent. Such expenditure cannot be 
defended on any reasonable grounds. The drink 
habit is hurtful to the drinker. "Moderate" drink- 
ing covers all drinking, from the occasional dram 
up to the point of intoxication, and one who 
drinks at all finds it difiicult to fix the point be- 
yond which real injury begins. Alcohol is a 
treacherous poison, and is dangerous even in 
small quantities, which often awaken a craving 
for steadily increasing amounts. The use of al- 
coholic drinks makes one more liable to sickness 
and makes sickness more severe when it comes. 
Add to these objections to alcohol as concerning 
the individual all the harmful results of its use 
and abuse that affect the family and the com- 
munity, and the plea for abstinence cannot be 
too strongly made in the interest of every man, 
woman, and child in the world. 



HOW WE MAY HURT OURSELVES WITH TOBACCO 



We have seen what harm to life is done by the 
wrong use — which is abuse — of alcohol, which so 
many take in the form of drink, to the misery 
and ruin of themselves and others. Tobacco, like 
alcohol, is a poison. A sufficiently large amount 



of the drug that it contains — the exact amount 
depending on the weight, age, strength, etc., of 
the person taking it, and on whether he has taken 
it before and so become "used" to it, as we say 
— such a dose will kill. Every one who under- 



LITTLE TALKS ON ]\L\NNERS AND MORALS 



stands the "matter ailniits that tlie smoke of 
tohacco is a poison, however mikl a poison it 
may be. , 

NATURE AND EFFECT OF TOBACCO 

Tobacco is the leaf of a plant, and this leaf 
contains various substances, anions;- which is one 
called nicotine. This, when t;i\-eu hy itself, is 
intensely poisonous. It is said, by one wdio should 
know, that a third of a grain of nicotine has 
killed a man. People who take tobacco may 
smoke it, or they may chew it, or thev mav grind 
it up and take it in the form of snutt. However 
it is taken, the results are the same in kind, even 
if differing in degree. 

Any one who for the first time tries to smoke 
a pipe soon finds that something very strange 
gets into his body. Have vou ne\'er seen a boy 
made almost deathly sick by doing that, wdiile 
he, and perhaps you, thought it would be such 
a "manly" thing to do? It has lately been proved 
that tobacco-smoke contains the poison nicotine. 
The nicotine is destroyed in the tubacco that is 
burned, but somewhere between the place where 
the tobacco burns and the smoker's mouth the 
nicotine is made hot and turned into gas, which is 
sucked in. If the smoker merely drew the nico- 
tine into his mouth and then puffed it out again, 
there could be no effect from it except upon his 
mouth itself. The effect of smoking depends not 
upon what is drawn into the mriuth, liut upon 
what is absorbed — carried into the hod)' and into 
the circulation of the blood. And into the blood 
nicotine easil_v passes through the lining of the 
mouth, as well as otherwise. 

INHALING S^IOKE 

Unwise persons sometimes have the trick of 
breathing tobacco-smoke right into their lungs 
instead of merely sucking it into the mouth and 
puffing it out again, and they will even teach boys 
how to inhale the smoke of cigarettes for them- 
selves. This is very difficult to stop, once we 
start doing it. It means that far more of the 
things in the smoke are absorbed, because the 
whole great surface of the lungs — erpial to two 
thousand square feet, if it were spread out — is 
exposed to the smoke. The vocal cords are also 
injured, and often a good voice, either for speak- 
ing or singing, is spoiled, to say nothing of other 
harm that may be done. 

Now, probably most of the authorities on the 
subject will admit that it is best for every one 
not to learn to smoke at all. (Of "chewing" and 
snuff-taking, wdiich refined people, of course, re- 
gard as filthy habits, we will not here speak, for 



415 

as everybody grows wiser and comes to have 
more regard for cleanliness, these habits will be 
less and less likely to be indulged or tolerated.) 
No one can call smoking natural; no one can 
prove that it does any good except to relieve for 
the moment the false craving it has itself created, 
which the very relieving will again create; and 
even if there be no injury done to life, such as 
may well happen in cases of tobacco-blindness, 
tobacco-heart, and so on, there is always a cer- 
tain amount of injury done to the pocket— for 
smoking easily gets to be an expensive indul- 
gence. 

CHILDREN SHOULD NOT SMOKE 

If any one should argue that smoking was 
really a good thing for grown-up people, at any 
rate no one would dare to argue that it is good 
for children, or very young people of any age or 
of either sex. No one can say that the child 
needs tobacco ; no one can show that tobacco does 
the child any good. All the likelihood, of course, 
is that the developing body will be more injured 
than the already developed body. That is true 
without exception of every poison or injurious 
sufistance known, and is equally true of all living 
things, plants, animals, or human beings. 

Many a man no doubt remembers his feeling of 
being grown-up and manly, and as clever as older 
boys, when he first smoked. No one expects boys 
to have the sense of men, and it is natural for 
boys to feel manly in such a case when older boys 
admire them. But the difference between a real 
man and a sheep remains; and, if it comes to 
that, just as a grown-up man can be a sheep, so a 
boy can be a man at any age, not by making him- 
self feel miserable in doing the things grown-up 
men do, but by deciding for himself what to do, 
and what not to do, without reference to foolish 
people. It is this kind of boy and this kind of 
man that makes history, that has made the world 
what it is worth to-day, and will make it worth 
more in the future. 

WHAT WISE MEN SAY 

A man who has made a careful study of the 
smoking question writes that out of one hundred 
men who smoke ninety-nine admitted to him that 
smoking tends to injure the health, and that they 
would not advise any young man to begin the 
habit. This writer. Prof. William A. McKeever, 
of the Kansas State Agricultural College, in his 
"Home Training Bulletin No. i," which deals 
with "The Cigarette Smoking Boy," says: 

"I have tabulated reports of the condition of 
nearly 2500 cigarette-smoking school-boys, and m 



416 



LITTLE TALKS OxN ]\L\NNERS AND MORALS 



describing them physically my informants have 
repeatedly resorted to the use of such epithets 
as 'sallow,' 'sore-eyed,' 'puny,' 'squeaky-voiced,' 
'sickly,' 'short-winded,' and 'extremely ner- 
vous.' In my tabulated reports it is shown that, 
out of a group of twenty-five cases of young col- 
lege students, smokers, whose average age of 
beginning was thirteen, according to their own 
admissions they had suffered as follows : Sore 
throat, four ; weak eyes, ten ; pain in chest, eight ; 
'short wind,' twenty-one; stomach trouble, ten; 
pain in heart, nine. Ten of them appeared to be 
very sickly. The younger the boy, the worse the 
smoking hurts him in everv wav, for these lads 
almost invariably inhale the fumes; and that is 
the most injurious part of the practice. Accord- 
ing to Dr. Sims Woodhead, professor of pathol- 
ogy in Cambridge Universitv, cigarette-smoking 
in the case of boys party paralvzes the nerve-cells 
at the base of the brain and thus interferes with 
the breathing and the heart-action. And yet, all 
this debility, and more, is brought upon thousands 
of boys who innocentlv imitate the example of 
their elders. I am not quite ready to deny any 
mature man the right to smoke, but I am unwill- 
ing to concede him the right to permit his 3'outh- 
ful son to take up the practice before maturity 
is reached." 

HOW S:\IOKIXG INJURES A BOY'S MIND 

The same writer tells us : "The injurious ef- 
fects of smoking upon the boy's mental activities 
arc very marked. Of the many hundreds of tab- 
ulated cases in my possession, several of the very 
youthful ones have been reduced almost to the 
condition of imbeciles. Out of 2336 who were 
attending public school, onhr six were reported 
'bright students.' A very few, perhaps ten, were 
'average,' and all the remainder were 'poor' or 
'worthless' students. 

"The ordinarv cigarette-smoking student often 
has a verv peculiar experience in his effort to 
prepare his daily lessons, about as follows: He 
goes to his room in the evening with the full- in- 
tention of studying and opens his text-book, but 
a certain feeling of nervous uneasiness soon leads 
his hands automatically to roll and light a ciga- 
rette. He indulges the habit a few minutes when, 
presto, the lesson-task which a while ago looked 
serious and urgent now appears trivial and un- 
necessarv, and he accordingly neglects it. He is 
now affable and companionable, but the higher 
moral judgments have lost their value to him and 
he is now ready to yield to the evil suggestions of 
others. The partial brain-paralysis resulting 
from the smoking makes the victim regard with 



indifference the most sacred promise he has ever 
made to anv one, and he is likely to violate it 
upon the slightest provocation." 



TRUANCY AND OTHER jMISCHIEFS 

Another educator, of much experience, W. L. 
Bodine, Superintendent of Compulsory Education, 
Chicago, declares : 

"The habitual truant, as a rule, is a dull pupil 
and backward in his grade. His physical and 
mental defects are caused partly by heredity, 
partly by environment and lack of nourishing 
food, partlv bv his cigarette-smoking. The ha- 
bitual truant almost invariably is addicted to the 
use of cigarettes. Truancy is the cradle of crime. 
A box of cigarettes and a nickel library can easily 
make a truant, and such a truant, poisoned in 
mind aiid bodv, is the future enemy of society. 

"There are verv few girl truants. A truant 
boy's sister has the same lack of nourishing food, 
the same environment ; but the boy smokes cigar- 
ettes and the girl does not ; and the girl goes to 
school. Now there is a contrast for you. The 
girl is usually up in her grade, and the boy is 
not. He is behind because he is dull. He fre- 
quently fails to be promoted. He makes little or 
no progress. Finally he gets to be so much 
larger and older than the other children in the 
grade he is in that he is ashamed and does not 
want to sta)' in school anv longer, and there- 
fore he becomes a truant. Whjf is he dull ? 
That is the question. I think cigarettes con- 
tribute in a measure to his mental and physical 
condition." 

Many other things do these and other wise 
men tell us about the harm that is done, by the 
cigarette especially, and by the smoking habit in 
general. As to the remedy, in the case of the 
young, Professor McKeever says; 

"Prevention is the only practical solution of 
this cigarette, or boy-smoking, question. Boys 
take up the practice in innocence, 'just for fun,' 
and are usually its victims before the matter is 
detected by their parents. But parents must 
learn more about the nature of this insidious 
habit and prevent its being taken up." 

The habit of cigarette-smoking has recently be- 
come quite common, in different countries, among 
a certain number of women — some of them so- 
ciety leaders, whose influence for things good or 
things evil is often felt by many. It is to be 
hoped that in this case, as in that of boys, the 
outcry of teachers and of people who aim at im- 
proving the habits of all will result in checking 
so objectionable a practice. 




MADONNA AND CHILD. 

(ENGRAVED BY PETER AITKEN. fKOM THE PAINTlNli BV MURILLO, 



IN THE riTTI PALACE, FLORENCE.) 




4J8